Gaiden of the Three Failures
by Hinata0321
Summary: A spinoff of Journey of the Three Failures, this project will contain a medley of short stories and one-shots. Ten: Young Dragon's Gaiden, Final Part: Ascension. "Rock Lee, of the ninja village Hidden in Leaves. Are you quite sure you're completely human?" The young shinobi's time among samurai draws to a close, but not before he leaves his mark.
1. Red and Green Gaiden 1

G3F\\\ Gaiden of the Three Failures

Chapter One

Hello! This story is a sort of spinoff with sidestories relating to my main fic "Journey of the Three Failures." There will be chapters about the main characters Naruto, Hinata, Lee, Hanabi, and Neji, as well as backstories on OCs like Kurogiba, Akane and Midori, Hanabi's guardians (like Hiyuki, Harumi, and Hiryuu), and maybe more. Basically, when I come up with a sidestory or other sort of skit I want to write out that doesn't fit into the main storyline, I'll put it here.

Note that this WILL contain fanfic spoilers for people who aren't reading Journey of the Three Failures. Also, some chapters (like this one) can stand alone fairly well, but some will not.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _NARUTO_.

* * *

Thin, trembling fingers gradually clasped into the grass beneath them. Their owner's mouth opened with a feeble, nondescript utterance as the watery apple-green eyes of a pale face winced with a small stir of emotion, still so tragically tender to the cutting light that blazed from everything in this bright, open world. The blinding color might have dazzled, brilliant if not for the throbbing, lethargic mass of pain it pressed into her eyes and left rocking and bubbling in her skull; similarly, the mingling of diversity present in the fresh air, a phantasmagoric whiff of her most desperate dreams of the past, may have been something wonderful, glorious and liberating, save for the feverish itch its sharpness ignited in her dripping nose. A parched throat burned under the strain of another soundless murmur, and the perpetual shaking of the child's frame intensified as she cringed, watching the teen calmly eating a simple meal.

Her watery eyes widened as the kunoichi stood – turned – stepped into her tent. The food – meat, rice – an immeasurable twenty meters away – perfectly unattended. The girl almost began to move instinctively before her heart crumpled, sank, and she ducked her head and grasped a freshly scarring wrist close to her chest, clenching her teeth as it throbbed in time with matching rings of darkened tissue on her other wrist, her skinny ankles, cut in around her hips and waist. They itched furiously; she dared not scratch them for the pain.

Despite that the waiting sustenance called out to her pleading, agonizingly hollow tummy, she wasn't sure what she felt. If she were only to perhaps muster the strength to creep beyond these bushes, into the lone kunoichi's camp, and seize the uneaten remains of her meal, she would either be discovered and killed on the spot or miraculously successful enough to prolong her existence just a bit further. She wasn't sure – walk over there and die, or walk over there and successfully condemn herself to a renewed period of wandering about in the miserable search for another meal.

She was nine years old. She could ascertain no longer whether either outcome was worth the energy to be spent in standing up, in traversing the distance, in the very acts of chewing and swallowing, or if it would be preferable to simply shut her eyes…

To lie down here…

And–

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

The child did not so much as flinch either at the uninterested words or at the accompanying feel of keen, icy metal on the back of her neck. She turned her head a bit, and met the violently chilled crimson eyes of the same Oto kunoichi she had just watched step into her tent.

The teen watched coldly, steel grip on her katana not moving an inch as the piteous creature in thin, tattered grey garb turned her head, shallowly cutting her flesh on the blade with her motion. The kid seemed not to notice, and her tiny, bony hands met the ground as she haltingly shambled around to face her bodily, grunting weakly with the effort. Skin was drawn tight over the bones of her emaciated frame, and the sunken, dark eyes that peered up at her out of a grimy face seemed embattled in a struggle for focus. Unwavering, the teen glared severely down at the spying runt and curtly repositioned the blade under her throat.

She was fifteen years old. She had just finished a rough mission, she ached from exertion, and she really wasn't in the mood.

But then the child lifted her twitching little hand, and as though it took from her all the strength her pathetic body had left, she reached out and – though it pressed her neck all the more firmly against the icy edge – grasped the kunoichi's sleeve.

Akane would never forget Midori's face at that moment. Even so, she would never be able to decide for certain if it was something of a smile that graced the child's pale lips when she first spoke to her, and rent the ninja's stone heart in two.

"Shinobi-san, could you… kill me…?"

* * *

**Gaiden of the Three Failures**

**One: Red and Green**

When she stepped back and sharply cast down her sword, the response on the girl's face seemed to imply she had seen Akane take up the blade rather than drop it. The Oto-nin's knees nearly buckled.

Maybe it was because she was a shinobi. Maybe it was because she was a _disarmed _shinobi, and had been so stripped of her weapon by means uncertain to her, an unidentified genjutsu or other. Maybe it was a look she caught in those green eyes as they left her to gaze at her fallen sword. Maybe she simply couldn't bear to see that face a moment longer. But for a purpose Akane could not hope to determine, she kicked the kid in the face.

She was thrown onto her back with a short cry. Akane was slammed by immediate regret. All of this – she had never felt anything like this before!

For a moment she feared the girl dead – she had really killed the fragile thing. But as soon as she found enough of her senses to discern the slight rise and fall of her chest, she eschewed them just as quickly, losing them again.

Thus, breathing fast, rattled to her core, the kunoichi scooped up the unconscious, skin-and-bones child with the matted green hair and moth-eaten clothes, cupped her head in her hand, and hastily bore her in her arms to her camp.

* * *

_What… am I doing?_

Akane could hardly be considered adept in the field of medicine – unsurprising, of a warrior hailing from the Youkou Clan – but she was no fool. The kid had been close enough to death before she kicked her; even an idiot could have told that much.

So she mashed her rice down, cut the meat to tiny pieces and mashed those up, too, and set a can of broth heating over the fire. The kid lay full within her sight, unmoving for the long minutes. _Halfway into her grave, _Akane mused darkly. _'Nether realm's already working its darkness over her…_

And so, again…

_What am I doing?_

Wasting time, for one. She was due back in the village. But even more, what on earth had come over her? She ran the risk of sacrificing her life on a weekly basis at best. Enemies, shinobi, civilians, women, children – if they were her targets, Akane would cut them down without batting an eye – she would, and at fifteen years she had already more times than she could count. She bore the cursed blood of the Youkou. She'd flirted with Death since the day she was born.

Yet here she was, compelled inexplicably by some alien paroxysm of will and emotion that she couldn't begin to comprehend. What would Lord Orochimaru say? What would that oaf Torakou say…?

She took some consolation in that she hadn't abandoned all sense to this bewildering impulse; she had already stripped the girl down to check for bombs, but had discovered only scars, and welts, and scars. Shackle marks, surgical incisions, chakra burns, the marring of repeated needle injections to the arm. Somehow these had affected her all the more unpleasantly, provoking feelings Akane didn't intend to try to figure out. She'd dressed her up again.

Crude as it was, the soup was done. Awkwardly Akane pulled the scrawny little whelp into her lap. She had no choice but to see the unwaking face of desolation now.

Akane shuddered, and a flashing pair of golden eyes loomed mountainously in her mind.

_I feed her now, _she told herself. _Then I'll be on my way._

"Wake up," she growled, almost as if in threat. She shook the girl lightly. "Oi."

Without great force she slapped her in the face, and the child stirred with a warbly murmur. Her eyes cracked open the tiniest degree, and as Akane sensed some meager semblance of consciousness returning to her body, Akane held the bowl to her parted lips. A small amount of the mixture she eased into the kid's mouth, but after moments in which she did not appear to swallow she coughed and hacked.

"H-hey!" Akane cried, sitting her up to strike her back with a flat hand. Choking averted, she tried again. "Now swallow this time, you stupid…" She trailed off at the dull green stare that emitted from the cracked, unblinking eyes. Akane scowled, placing her hand on the kid's chin. "Swallow it… Come on…" she growled, manually working her lax jaw. Akane's eyebrows drew inward when the soup drizzled from a corner of her mouth, and the kunoichi froze.

_Death's already caught a whiff of her. _Scenting a paling spirit, it had found the hapless morsel Akane held in her arms, pitiful in her frailty, had surely already seized her within its Eye, and stood at that moment poised to claim her as its own. Everything Akane lived by told her to give up. This was the Time – and for Youkou Akane, it was time only for dutiful acceptance. Leave it at that. Accept. Death indiscriminate had touched this fading creature, had numbered her breaths, and it would not stand to be denied.

But she did not abide. She did not stand by humbly and witness Death's working.

Akane continued to work the child's jaw.

"Swallow it, kuso…!"

The ninja's teeth ground.

"Come on… Come on…!

"Come on…!"

Her breath caught.

She had not realized she had come to lean over the girl. Nonetheless, with their faces a sparse few inches apart, Akane saw when the light returned to dimming eyes, and saw as, within a few seconds time, those deep emeralds came to focus on Akane's own steady gaze.

The girl blinked, and swallowed.

* * *

**- ****外****伝 ****-**

**End Chapter One**

**Akane: **What have I done here? Where did this kid come from, and what's her story…?

**Midori: **Um… Shinobi-san…

**Akane: **Forget it. You're on your own.

**Midori**: B-but why?

**Akane:** I should never have intervened in the first place – you couldn't understand! Just stop following me!

**Naruto:** So… If this is Sidestories of the Three Failures, where are _we_ exactly?

**Lee:** I suppose we are a bunch of four and five years old in Konoha!

**Naruto:** Whaaaat? What's the point of that?

**Hinata:** N-Naruto-kun, don't be rude! This is where the other characters get a chance to tell _their_ stories! We still have the main storyline to hog the spotlight!

**Naruto:** Oh, I get it! I guess that works then. Next in the Red and Green sidestory is **Hidden Power**. Don't miss it!

A/N: Yep, so... first chapter, done! Note that the next post to this fic may be either a continuation of 'Red and Green', or a separate short story, or a oneshot... Whichever I write first. I do have the gist of this particular sidestory planned out, though, so it ought to be finished eventually.

Also note that as Red and Green continues there will likely be shoujo-ai implied. If you've read J3F, you probably already guessed this. Nothing hardcore, of course, but if you know you'll freak out at the concept, you may want to skip future 'Red and Green' chapters.

Please tell me what you thought of the chapter!

See ya!

:o)Hinata0321:o)


	2. Snowfire Gaiden 1

G3F\\\Gaiden of the Three Failures

SF1

A/N: I'm in college! And dang, I miss my dog.

I've gotten a few more of these shorts down on paper. Twenty-five of J3F is making progress, but breaking from the routine and writing out a 'tidbit' sized gaiden chapter every now and then is probably good exercise :P

The next part of the 'Red and Green Gaiden' begun in the previous chapter is already written, so it might go up next. For now, though, we'll introduce another sidestory…

**Disclaimer:** I do not own NARUTO.

* * *

_A person, like a shadow: unnoticed, and unwanted..._

_A person... a lot like me.  
_

She had found the courage at last to approach her, as she had wished to several times before. What was it that drew her to the daughter of the clan head, of all people? The girl could not be certain. But in this dark blue-haired child, this child of vastly greater importance than herself, the girl had perhaps discovered a kindred spirit in the most fleeting glances from afar, in the awkwardly mumbled greetings that were exchanged in occasional passing.

Her clan's heiress was known to her only from afar, as she should be. This she knew, and all the same, today she had approached her. Now that she had, however, she could come up with naught to say to the bright, perplexed pair of lavender eyes trained shyly on her. Flustered, she blinked too often and fumbled for her words, gaze averted from the patiently waiting heiress.

"A-anou – so, anou…" Realizing suddenly and belatedly an error, she flushed and bowed deeply at the waist, eyes shut tight. "Forgive me for not p-paying proper respect, Lady Hinata! I-I just… well, I…"

"N-not at all! Please – please raise your head, cousin."

The older girl straightened hesitantly, opening her eyes. It was hard not to be conscious that she was a full adult's hand taller than the heiress, but nearabouts too skinny for her height. The line of her mouth worried nervously, and her eyebrows drew in, quivering. She was a fool, a fool–

"Your eyes… they're so _blue_!"

**Gaiden of the Three Failures**

**Snowfire**

The sinking of her heart was immediate, and with its descent all the measly courage she had mustered crumpled and drained away; whatever she had been hoping for here had ended, shot dead before it began. Already these foul eyes, eyes that outcast her wherever she turned, had made their impression on the clan heiress more swiftly than her halting, stumbling words could ever dream to.

Her eyes were by no means blue in the common sense of the description; pale, creamy, and lacking a discernible pupil – indeed nearer to being white than pure blue – they were atypical to say the least. Among Hyuuga eyes, however, they bore an alarming degree of saturation. Such rare excess of pigmentation, in fact, signified a weak Byakugan, which naturally denoted in turn a poor practitioner of Juuken.

She'd been dealt a losing hand. A few shades darker than those of her kinsmen, her eyes were her eternal shame, detestable in their color.

The young Lady Hinata knew none of this, however. When she saw the tall Onee-san's swiftly deflating expression, she only blinked in naïve confusion.

"Wh-what's wrong? I didn't mean to call you weird – your eyes a-are just so – so _pretty_. I'm sorry…" She trailed off upon seeing the new emotion that blossomed on the older girl's face – shock.

Overly blue eyes wide, cheeks warm, the girl fought to choke back suddenly spilling tears and ducked her head, bowing again to the startled child.

"Th-th-thank you… _thank_ you, Hinata-sama!"

Never before had Hiyuki's eyes been called beautiful.

* * *

–"_I made s-some… some cinnamon buns, earlier, but it's more than I can eat alone… W-would you – like t-t-to – to share them?"–_

Smiling anxiously, Hiyuki placed a small tray with two filled teacups on the table between them.

"Itadakimasu," Hinata said softly, and Hiyuki repeated the phrase drearily, wringing her hands in her lap as the heiress took a small, delicate bite of the sticky roll on her plate. _What will I do… what will I do if she doesn't like them?_

Her fears were unfounded. Hinata's face lit up; blushing, she took a few more bites and swallowed before turning her gaze on her cousin.

"O-oishii!"

Hiyuki brightened at the sight of the girl's smile. "Thank goodness," she said, picking up a bun on her own plate. "I was really worried – I m-mean, you're probably accustomed to fine food, I'm sure… and the tea I've prepared – it's quite simple, I know…"

Hinata tried a sip; when she lowered the cup her eyes were practically sparkling. "Oishii…!" she exclaimed again, and looked up, beaming. "Onee-san, you're amazing!"

Two compliments, in one day. Kami, the young Lady Hinata was unusual. Hiyuki coughed and swallowed the bite she'd been working on, as her head swam. "Th-thank you! I'm glad that you enjoy it."

It was true. That smile, on the face she had so often glimpsed from afar, forlorn and alone – that she had gotten Lady Hinata to smile was unbelievably rewarding. Hiyuki understood then the reason she had approached the younger girl. It was simple as that.

"Say… Onee-san?"

"Hm?"

"Could y-you… Do you think you could teach me to make this?"

Hiyuki smiled softly, though inside she was alight with mirth. "I would be honored, m'lady."

"I mean… I know I probably can't make anything this good, but if I could thank Hiyuki-onee-san by treating her next time…"

"Please do not say that; I'm sure whatever you make would turn out wonderfully!"

"R-really?"

As it turned out…

The food was delicious because they ate it together.

* * *

**-****火雪****-**

**Snowfire One – End**

**Hinata: **This is my Okaa-san's garden...

**Hiyuki: **Hinata-sama's mother…? That's…

**Hiryuu: **The tale of a clan unforgiving, and the tale of a shadow, unnoticed and unwanted – the sort of existence Lady Hinata may well have led, if not for virtue of her birthright. The tale of the taboo, and the devastating weight of its meaning.

**Hiyuki: **I'm all right – I'll be alright. Hinata-sama doesn't even have a mother; who am I to complain about mine?

**Hiryuu: **In this place… have we no mercy for the weak?

Pretty boring chapter, I know DX

Funny thing - the idea of making a more intense than usual eye color a sign of a weak Byakugan actually came a while back when I was coloring the 'New Konoha's Hyuuga Clan' pic with GIMP. It was one of my first digital colorings and I was following a turorial (or a few). I really liked how Hiyuki's eyes came out and didn't want to desaturate them quite as much as the others because the detail wouldn't show up so well. Then the idea came up, and since it fit with her story, I had an excuse to leave it XD

If anyone has a preference for what they'd rather up next – part two of 'Snowfire' or part two of 'Red and Green' – go ahead and say so. I doubt this will get many reviews, and I don't care either way, so one person's preference can probably decide XD

Peace,

Hinata0321


	3. Snowfire Gaiden 2

G3F\\\Gaiden of the Three Failures

SF2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NARUTO.

* * *

"This is my Okaa-san's garden!" young Lady Hinata said, her small voice proud.

_So this is what you wanted to show me… _"Your Okaa-san…?" Hiyuki knew the mother in question to be Lady Hyuuga Hikari. The late Lady Hyuuga Hikari. She touched a hand to her friend's shoulder, hesitating briefly. "I'm so sorry, Hinata-sama."

The heiress shook her head. "No – Okaa-sama died giving my baby sister life. She didn't leave for nothing; I have Hanabi-chan to love in her place, and this garden to look after, too!"

Though the girl smiled, Hiyuki could see the soft sadness in her eyes. Nonetheless, this was a side of her lady that Hiyuki had not seen before, in the course of the weeks they'd grown close. This Lady Hinata was confident; the girl who felt meager pride in her esteemed Hyuuga blood and stature was proud to bursting of the garden she'd maintained for a year, and all on her own. And though this place clearly brought her sadness, she overcame it with a certain purpose and optimism.

"You're so strong, m'lady…"

This place was Hinata's – a public part of the grounds, but no less unquestionably Hinata's – and she had shared it with Hiyuki specifically, when her inherent modesty would usually prevent her from revealing what little she was proud of.

"The garden is beautiful." Hiyuki bowed her head, taking one of Hinata's small hands in both of her own. "Thank you for showing me this, Hinata-sama."

Hiyuki watched, from a respectful distance, as Hinata tended the garden, a small, solitary figure scurrying dutifully and expertly about the well-kept rows. It was after she rejoined her on the walkway that Hinata inquired of Hiyuki's okaa-san.

"They say she's becoming one of the clan's most powerful kunoichi, right? And being _your_ mother, Hireiki-oba-san must be really amazing! What's she like, Hiyuki-nee-chan?"

After perhaps a moment too long, Hiyuki turned the suddenly flat line of her mouth into a strained smile and managed a laugh.

"She's… nice."

* * *

**Gaiden of the Three Failures**

**Snowfire Two**

"_Kah–!_"

Wincing, Hiyuki coughed and opened her eyes, staring dazedly at the sky above.

"Stand up, Hiyuki. Your brother didn't hit you that hard."

Hitting the ground had jarred her breath; even so, Hiyuki began to turn over, to clamber to her feet. "H-hai… Okaa-san."

Hireiki's eyes were sharp, arms crossed as she scrutinized Hiyuki taking her stance. Too conscious of her clumsiness, and of the eyes that scorned her ineptitude, the girl trembled, the placement of her feet uncertain. Were they the right distance apart? _How did she not know this? _She was drawing a blank, scowling in discomfort and embarrassment. If Okaa-san corrected her, her words would be harsh, and Hiyuki balked at the thought of receiving them; if she was not corrected, Hiyuki would know not whether in her fumbling she had happened upon a passable stance, or her mother had simply given up on correcting her for the day, and her sentiments of displeasure would be converted into all the more virulence for her dissecting gaze–

"Toes _out_, Hiyuki!"

She nearly cried out as the barked words struck her, and, inwardly cursing her simple mistake, adjusted her footing accordingly. Her brother's eyes were snide as he waited, stance flawless and aggressive; he made no effort to hide his gloating mirth at the pathetic match before him.

The ruthless training Hireiki had imposed on her children left little leeway for anything beyond one of two paths. Kindhearted Hiyuki had been broken down to nothing. Steely Hitode had fought until he had risen magnificently to and above the challenge, and thus burgeoned into excellence.

"C'mon, Yuki," he said, smirking. "Surely you can hit me, even once? I'll go _easy_ on you."

_Go easy? _By the way he said it – surely he wasn't threatening to…? No, that was extreme even by the clan's standards. It was a taboo rather frowned upon. Indecent. Hiyuki gritted her chattering teeth, tensing to move. If his intention was really to challenge her honor… No. She had to hit him. If she couldn't… she shook her head.

At Hireiki's command to begin, she sprang forward on the attack with a desperate yell.

Hitode started; his sister never initiated unless ordered specifically to do so.

He was off-guard. For once, miraculously, she had caught him off-guard. She would get him. She had to!

Ducking outside, he grabbed and twisted her arm – slammed the heel of his palm into the side of her ribs with a crunch. Her wild cry burst into a croak of pain as her knees began to give. Then a hook fist connected terribly with her face, snapping her head to the side and throwing her to the ground.

Hurting, she touched a hand to her throbbing cheek in disbelief. Was she bad enough to warrant _this_? Surely… surely, even she…

There was no amusement in her brother's eyes now as he looked down at her – only disdain. Hiyuki looked to her mother, as if for help. She should have known better.

"What are you waiting for? Stand up, girl!"

Hiyuki cringed, baffled. "But – h-he…?" She looked between the two. "He used his fist. It's… illegal." Illegal was a mild way of putting what he'd done.

Hireiki's eyes were dispassionate. "I did not see it."

The lie was plain as her voice was flat. Distraught beyond comprehension, Hiyuki finally burst into tears.

"Now you're crying? Stop. That's an order, girl!"

She couldn't stop; the hurt inside, inflamed, was too much. Outcast. She was an outcast, in every aspect of the word.

Disgusted, her mother and brother left her alone with her shame. Hiyuki was not to come inside until she collected herself.

The pain of the blow was nothing beside its meaning. She had been deliberately struck by a fist. Her older brother could not have offended her more by spitting on her.

A strike of the fist was the greatest slight one Hyuuga could deal another in combat. Hitode's punch had declared her of a level so pathetic as to be beneath the art of Juuken – unfit to wield it and too weak to face it, unworthy even of her opponent's effort – and in her silence her mother had concurred.

Hiyuki was worthless.

* * *

Small hands dipped a rag in a barrel of water in the corner of the training yard, and wrung it out again. She pressed the dampened cloth to a swollen cheek. Sniffling but withholding any whimpers, she then dabbed away blood that had trickled from her nose.

"Hiyuki?"

At the man's voice she froze momentarily. Eyes downcast, she continued about her work. "Oji-san… Please, if it is alright, I… just want to be alone right now…"

"You've been crying," he observed. As Hireiki's only brother, this oji-san really was Hiyuki's uncle. Of the renowned siblings, however, Hiryuu was the gentler of the two – that is to say, he was capable of gentleness where his older sister was not. Though he was by no means known for having soft spots, it was known by his closest acquaintances alone that if he reserved any, there was one for his daughter and another for his frail niece.

_Hyuuga are not supposed to cry… _But did it matter, at this point? She shook her head. "How c-can you tell I've been…?"

"It's still on your voice." He knelt at her side, and Hiyuki tried to hide her face. Only a halfhearted bit of resistance was offered when he took her chin in his callused hand, and softly turned her head so that he could inspect her face directly. "This type of bruise… is not the mark of a palm's strike."

"No, sir. I am dishonored."

Hiryuu's jaw clenched. Fierce eyes glinted with disapprobation. "I will have a word with Hireiki."

The girl blanched. "Uncle, you mustn't! If you defend me, sh-she'll say I complained to you – she'll only get angrier."

"This is getting out of hand, Hiyuki-chan. To condone such an act would be…"

But Hiyuki was adamant. He had no choice but to respect her wishes as they pertained to her own problems, and agreed to remain uninvolved. Hiyuki sighed in relief, and Hiryuu regarded her curiously.

She was about to ask what was wrong when he folded his arms lightly about her.

"U-uncle…?"

"You're so small, Hiyuki… Too small for the amount of pain in your eyes, and too gentle for the things that have taken place today."

"Uncle…" She returned the hug, blushing, and nestled her head against him.

The man already feared in more than one nation as the Blazing Dragon of the Hyuuga Clan rubbed her back as she sniffled again.

"If you ever need me, Hiyuki, you know where I can be found."

"H-hai…"

He left Hiyuki to herself – to herself, but bearing significantly improved spirits than before he had arrived. She forced herself to study in the water barrel a reflection she had only minutes prior turned away from, and felt less cowed loathing than before at the sight of her face. Tentatively she brought her hand to the tender splotch of purple marring her cheek. A weak smile came to her lips.

_I can't be mad, at Okaa-san… Lady Hinata doesn't even have a mother. How can I complain, then, about the mom I have?_

Hiyuki couldn't, she told herself. It was simple.

Young Hiyuki did not know how to hate, so she took her negative feelings and, one way or another, she buried them. She did not know, nor did she often contemplate what became of them after; she only knew that she was perpetually hurting inside. The pain, blinding though it was, was near to all she had known. She could not have determined it was out of place.

She was confused – sometimes angry – but oh, so weak.

She could not have known that her learning to hate would occur in concordance with her becoming strong – frightfully strong.

No more could she have realized that someday, given the right impetus, she would explode.

**-****火雪****-**

**Snowfire Two – End**


	4. Slam

G3F\\\Gaiden of the Three Failures

The first main character snippet, just for fun. Set sometime during chapter 15.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NARUTO.

* * *

**Gaiden of the Three Failures**

**Sidestory: Slam**

**Hinata ****ヒナタ**

His hand was bigger than mine; a strong, heavy palm and thick but graceful fingers, sweaty with the summer that hung in the air, dwarfed my own delicate-looking hand as we clapped them together. My face warmed in the simmering air. He had just wiped his hand of perspiration, but now the heat pressed between our crossed palms was quickly generating more.

"Well, before we get too slippery…" Naruto hinted with a grin.

"H-huh? Oh – hai…" I stammered.

This was silly, I thought as we moved our arms loosely one way and the other, testing it. No, not the test, but this whole – this! How had this idea even come up? Silly, the whole thing!

Though he would normally have considered it unbecoming of a gentleman to challenge a lady so, his intentions obviously resided not in a boast of superiority but rather the casual fulfillment of honest curiosity. It was a simple game, after all, and there was no pretending I wasn't a bit different from the average girl; thus he had offered, as a friend and equal, the good-natured challenge to a harmless test of strength, and by his code that was perfectly acceptable.

Still…

"Ready, Hinata?"

"Um…" I nodded with a nondescript grunt. _Forget it. I'll just do my best._

"Okay!" he said, "Ready!

"Set!

"Go!"

_THAM!_

My lips parted. I blinked, studying the hand that had been immediately slammed knuckles-down on the tree stump between us.

Naruto's larger hand.

"A-a-anou… Were you…?" I bit back the thought, face flushing bright.

"Ready? Trying?" he filled in contemplatively, rubbing his neck and forcing a rigid smile. "Why, yes, I was."

I stammered a bit and finally withdrew my hand, mutely. He massaged knuckles that I _really_ hoped weren't bruising too badly.

"W-well." He coughed in embarrassment. Oh, gods – I'd embarrassed him. Neither of us could seem to find enough places to avert our gazes from each other. "Th-that Ookami family is really something else, huh?"

"I'm sorry!" I squeaked abruptly, ducking my head.

"Hey, none of that! You won, fair and square. It was just kind of… wow."

"Y-yeah…"

"Still…" He met my eyes tentatively, cheeks pink, a finger flicking at his whiskered cheek. "Never speak of this again?"

"Deal."

**End Sidestory**


	5. Red and Green Gaiden 2

G3F\\\ Gaiden of the Three Failures

R&G2

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own _NARUTO_! If anything changes, though, I'll be sure to let you know. Promise.

* * *

Youkou Akane was in a fix.

Again she swore under her breath. Her step was brisk down the trail, her arms crossed, her head down. Why had she done it? What had impelled her to do such a thing? She had blatantly stolen from Death an object of His desire, and her otherworldly master would not be pleased. As Youkou, she was bound to Him. This wasn't overstepping her bounds; it was a slight of such severity that she dreaded to consider a fitting consequence. No matter how many she had killed and how many more she would, the debt would hang over her head with each breath. For reasons the kunoichi could not explain, she had strayed – erred in her blood's service. That was a problem.

As if to complicate things, said _problem_ was keeping at her heels like a stray dog.

Akane stopped, turning suddenly and glaring with harsh eyes. "I won't feed you again. You might as well stop."

The feeble brat was panting from the effort of keeping up. Watery green eyes blinked, and her lips parted with a tremble, but so suddenly under the Oto-nin's full attention she could not bring herself to speak. The teen sighed and turned away again.

_Forget it, _Akane thought. _Keeping her close by will only complicate things. Yes, _the Sound girl decided, feeling better with a course of action in mind. The girl could wander on her own again, come what may, and she wouldn't be Akane's problem anymore. She wasn't Akane's problem _now_. They would be completely uninvolved, and Akane wouldn't have to think about the damned pest or the strange things she made her feel. That was what was important. It had to be her best solution.

For whatever reason, the simple and blatant solution of turning around and repaying her debt squarely on the spot never quite chanced to cross the young Youkou's mind.

"E-eeto… Shinobi-san–?"

"No," Akane snapped firmly, cutting off that high, thin voice that edged tentatively up behind her. Gods, it should be a crime to be so cursed helpless! "If you think I intend to babysit you, you've got the wrong idea. Just get lost already!"

With that, the kunoichi turned and broke into a run.

Her stray broke into a run right behind her.

Akane was initially surprised that the kid would even attempt to keep up; even so, despite the fair pace she held, once a minute had passed her pursuer gave no indication of slowing.

_Persistent little… _Akane frowned as she glanced over her shoulder. She picked up speed, and the brat followed suit. Light sandals flashed and crunched rapidly through leaf litter, raising dust on the path, and sloppy bare feet padded frantically behind them. The green-haired wretch – surely she didn't know why she herself was running! She had no clue of what could lie ahead, and still she tore on, all but blind in dogged pursuit. Every glance Akane took back, those eyes were on hers.

_What's wrong with you? Do you trust someone like me so much…?_

Teeth gritting, Akane gathered herself in an abrupt halt. A frail body, almost insubstantial, collided with her backside, and the ninja turned to see the child stumble back, toppling off her unsteady feet. While Akane's breathing was not noticeably elevated, the brat on the ground panted painfully, splayed in exhaustion. Her feet bled.

_Why would she even do something so stupid? _Akane scoffed. It didn't matter. The older girl looked forward again.

"See where we are?" she asked offhandedly, drawing her sword from its sheath.

The kid struggled until sitting up, feverish and weak. "It's a… bridge," she replied curiously.

"Exactly," Akane muttered, "And now…" A flash of steel, and their end of the wooden rope bridge gave. It met the far wall with a crash and hung, crumbling. "Now it's just a steep valley whose bridge is out. Here's where you and me split."

With a short running start, Akane gathered herself and cleared the fifteen meters in a smooth leap to land easily on the other side. She sighed; she felt as if a weight had slid off her shoulders. "Well, that takes care of–,"

She had looked back then, for what she had fully intended to be her last glance at a pitiful creature standing defeated on the other side of the gap.

What she instead saw was a pitiful creature, teeth clenched, push from a long running start to leap as far as she possibly could.

_She can utilize … her chakra? !_

**Gaiden of the Three Failures**

**Red and Green Two: Complication**

There was no time for bewildered gaping just then. Before Akane could understand it, or so much as process a coherent thought, her body was moving, crouching – and as the tiny girl fell short, Akane's hand locked onto her thin wrist. She met the valley wall with a grunt; then she dared open her eyes and look tentatively upon her savior, cheeks warming in wonderment.

Savior…?

_Dammit! _"What are you, out of your mind? !" Akane shouted, heart racing. She couldn't take her eyes from those shimmering, marvelously confused pale emeralds the girl directed up at her, any more than she could stop the hammering of her heart. Swearing, Akane pulled her to solid ground, drew her sword, and held the blade to the girl's neck.

"You used chakra; you've been trained as a ninja," she said flatly. "Talk. Who are you?" Akane would be damned if the first life she'd saved belonged to an assassin sent to do away with her.

"I-I – no one. I'm no one…"

"Wrong answer…" Akane warned. "Try again." Her free hand rested at the girl's stomach. If that was how she wanted to play, Akane could always see how tight-lipped she would be after a good taste of the Claw…

"Sunagakure – I was born in the S-Sand, but th-then…!"

"Then _what_?"

Green eyes were watering. "Then… Th-then, they… Look out!"

Akane had already begun reacting in the instant before widening eyes and the cry of warning would have alerted her to the threat. Her sword flashed to deflect a flurry of shuriken from the side – and, with a great clang, the knife strike of a shinobi that came shooting across the chasm.

_Cloud? _Akane thought, eyes narrowed on the man's hitai-ate even as the force of the leaping blow pushed her backwards. She rolled onto her shoulder, driving a boot into his gut to throw him off; landing on her feet, Akane lunged to grab the petrified child around the waist and blurred fifteen meters, getting distance from the valley's edge before she could be surrounded. Three more Kumo-nin raced into view, their faces cold.

"Friends of yours…?" Akane began to say jokingly to the child, but paused as her eyes fell upon the whelp. She was shivering; her face was stark, even haunted, and hollow green eyes were unfocused with too much pain for her years. Her lips were moving, but though standing right next to her Akane had to focus to make out her murmur.

"…Killed me. You should've killed me…"

"Yeah, shut up," Akane snarled back. "Why the hell should I kill someone who asks me to? That's just _weird_."

One of the Cloud-nin, a heavyset man with a thick and dour face, took a step forward; his lips pushed up into an empty grin, with an amount of effort to imply his mouth was unaccustomed to the expression. "Well, Midori-chan, there you are! You've been a very bad girl. What's gotten into you, running off all of a sudden when we were making such fine, ah… _progress_?"

"So you know this kid?" Akane observed casually, taking note of the steady tears that fell soundlessly from the child's wide eyes. Raw wrists and ankles, the scarring of repeated injections and incisions, crossed the back of the older girl's mind.

"Of course!" the man scoffed. "Know her? Everyone's been worried sick for this silly girl…"

"That's funny," Akane said. Here these shinobi were, shown up ready to take the jinx off her hands and do gods know what to her – but still the young kunoichi temporized. "Your Midori-chan doesn't seem quite as thrilled to see you."

The man laughed lightly. "Tell me – what interest does the business of Kumo hold for a ninja of a small, fledgling village such as your own?"

Akane shrugged. "Maybe nothing, maybe not. Maybe as a person I'm just a bit curious…"

"Listen, you can't believe what that child says; she's confused!" Akane felt the girl flinch when his gaze fell to her. "Come on over here, Midori."

To Akane, his smile seemed almost sincere as he held out his hand in the kid's direction. Midori's reaction – her shrinking behind Akane's calm stance, her trembling hands grasping the kunoichi's shirt in tight fistfuls as she peered tearfully at the Kumo squad and finally shut her eyes in fear, shook her head – spoke clearly enough in contrast. Akane cocked her head, tossing the apparent leader a coolly dubious look as she clapped a hand on the girl's head. Why? Youkou were supposed to choose their fights wisely, and with four opponents of unknown skill, this was one she might not be able to win.

The man's lip twitched. "Midori-chan? What's the matter? I told you to come here."

"N-n… no more. Please. No more, no m-more…!" the girl whimpered in quiet distress, still glued to Akane's side.

Akane couldn't help it. Maybe it was the fact that something was plainly wrong here; maybe she was simply intrigued. Perhaps still it was nothing more than the voice of the hapless creature, the child who had requested Death, and been denied it, who clung so desperately to her.

"Answer me this," she prodded, "If this kid's really from Sand, what's she doing with the Cloud? That's a long way, I'd think … for such a puny little brat to wander of her own free will."

He simply ignored her now. His smile had grown increasingly forced, so that now, on second glance, it could be seen as a grimace. "Midori… I _gave_ you an _order_."

When several seconds had passed and she did not respond, the man vanished.

"_Ugh_–!"

"Shimatta!" Akane swore, turning to see the Kumo-nin's boot smashing into the kid's stomach. Her watering eyes stretched wide as she was driven back, and the unfocused, pale greens rolled up as crimson flecked from her lips.

Akane readied her sword. _What's up with kicking a mangy brat? !_

Whirling, she deflected three kunai that had been speeding for her back – but a fourth got past, sailing deep into her gut. The vital hit had been missed by centimeters; the luck only made her swear. _Was that You – reminding me how generous You are in letting those of my clan slip by for their service? I know, damn it!_

She pretended to fall, deceptively limp, for only a second before lunging swiftly to get her blade at one of the Kumo-nin's throats, and with blinding speed she cut another cleanly across the belly.

The third was ready for her, blocking her blade with a pair of knives. He was good, without question – but Akane wasn't a favored asset of her Lord Orochimaru for nothing.

A sandal blade, devilishly sharp, flicked out from the inner side of her shoe; with it, in a quick swipe, she gouged at a sensitive part of his ankle. He screamed. Akane's true interest, however, lay in the fleeting flare of deathly aura that pain had elicited from him.

Her trained sight flashed vividly red as crimson eyes were set alight by a savage glow, as the Youkou blood searing in her veins propelled her forward. Bared teeth became fangs in the streaming wind as she lunged, and she bit into the normally intangible energy, tore some away, and swallowed whilst leaping back again.

She landed loosely on her feet, left hand darting to the hilt of the blade at her hip, and glared the shaken Kumo man down as she leveled the thin sword toward him and spoke with haunting finality:

"Your essence is mine. Your Time has come."

With that invocation she turned the blade against herself in a flash, driving the length of the maddening steel, freshly imbued with the might of Death, cleanly between the two long bones of her forearm.

For only an instant her eyes widened, her breath catching fast as the shrieking sensation of torn flesh flooded her with pain and something transcending pain altogether. _Recognize me, for I am your servant!_

She was Youkou, one who walked with Death ever upon her shoulders, ever whispering in her ear, and His might as a poison which due to exposure she had grown all but immune to.

The Kumo-nin was screaming in agony – dropping his weapon in shock, clutching his inexplicably bleeding arm – and Akane, fazed neither by pain nor the potent spiritual backlash of touching chaos, ground her teeth and shoved toward her stunned foe faster than he could react.

In a great splattering of crimson, the blade wielded by Death's hand was wrenched from her arm and lashed blindingly across his throat. Akane marveled, brimming with power as their blood ran together. His soul had fled him before he hit the ground.

"What a fearsome ability…"

The young kunoichi, wild eyes cold, turned her head at the voice and frowned at the leader who had chosen to observe.

"And in one so young… So you hail from that clan of so-called Reapers? But by the look of your technique, I'd say you're merely one of the mortal ones. The less trouble for me, I suppose…"

Akane scoffed. "The Cult of Jashin was stripped of our name and banished from the Youkou eight years ago; those heretics who turned from our way are nothing more than fools who chose to worship but one of Death's faces, rather than appreciate the full majesty of His being."

"Oho? But if I'm not mistaken, your clan hails from the Land of Springs, not Rice. How has such a superb Youkou warrior found herself in the employ of such a nameless village?"

"It's hardly the concern of one so soon to die, but had you the privilege of laying eyes upon the lord I serve, you too would know that Oto is destined to become a great village. Still, who I serve is irrelevant as long as I am able to serve Death as well; and He is the lord to whom you shall be succinctly delivered."

He only smirked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in this thick face. "You talk a lot, for such a young pup."

_CLANGG!_

_Damn it…! _Akane's teeth clenched as she blocked the clone's knife strike. _I got careless! _The hilt of her ANBU-issue straight sword was brought swiftly, as a bludgeon, to the doppelganger's nose – and to Akane's dismay, the clone grunted and lost its shape in a sizzling burst of lightning, jolting through her arm from stinging fingertips. The sword was falling before she found it had slipped from her grasp. She was given no time to recover her weapon: the Cloud captain's vigorous backfist cracked against her jaw to throw her off her feet.

Her eyes burst open. They opened – and immediately were fixed upon the knife the man hurled, widening as the projectile sliced the air on a course level and true. Her heart froze in the instant that violent Death, blazing with outrage, turned His hand so decisively against her and now closed upon Akane as a bolt of keen iron closing for the space between her eyes. She shrunk against the unyielding earth; there was no time to act. The time was no more than enough for her to comprehend the single, thoughtless words flung forth in her mind.

_Be swift–!_

The fatal edge was centimeters from her trembling brow.

And it was not moving.

Akane drew a shaky breath.

And as the Kumo-nin gasped, Akane's eyes dared edge from the suspended knife in pursuit of his gaze, to fall upon the small, intently outstretched palm, ten meters away, of a quivering, dirty, green-eyed brat.

Perhaps a word or mere utterance of confusion was still trying to shape on Akane's parted lips when the man shouted "No!"

–When the kunai flipped one-eighty, accelerated–

–And with horrible force blasted through her would-be killer's skull, spattered out into the air behind him.

For an instant Akane observed a maddened intensity in the broken creature's typically watery green eyes, in the snarl of hatred that had gripped her gaunt face like that of an animal, a young beast cornered and therefore furious and therefore wildly dangerous; but it faded timidly as the Kumo-nin fell back, and had vanished entirely as the silenced promise of torment that he was thudded, very much dead, to the earth.

As much and as inexplicably as it hurt to, Akane now needed to keep that animal down. So within a second she had tackled the girl on her back in the dirt, twisted a fragile arm until she yelped, and poised firm fingers at the hollow beneath the breastbone – The right move, and she could stop her heart. Then, with all the ferocity of the feared Youkou warrior, the merciless Death-bringer she had been when she awoke that morning rather than the humbled servant who had just been disowned by her master but had however miraculously seemed to escape His wrath, she growled:

"_Who the hell _are_ you? !_"

The girl's face was hot, her eyes shut. "I told you, I'm no one– yaah!" She keened in pain as Akane's hand expertly located the pressure point and clenched, setting her frail body rigid and a deathly aura swirling abundantly from her form. She was at her mercy, and briefly Akane considered closing the book on this all, rectifying her error and walking away like nothing had happened. But only briefly.

"Please – that h-hurts…!"

Akane loosened her hold. "Talk."

"My… my father didn't seem to have inherited his abilities, but my grandfather was the Third Lord Kazekage. I was named Midori… and I'm probably the last carrier of the Magnetism Release arts."

Akane swore; some kami out there was certainly delighting in a laugh at her expense. "And the Cloud coveted that art…"

"Hai…"

Akane released her and rolled onto her back, overcome with a sudden weariness. In fifteen years she had never felt so aged. "And now, of all people, the brat comes tumbling into _my_ lap," she muttered to herself, massaging her temple. "What're You playing at?"

The girl – Midori, of Suna – mistook her. "I've told you the truth, Shinobi-san. I… if I go on, the same thing will happen again…" She embraced her thin frame in despair, eyes fogging up. "In the C-Cloud… the things they did… I don't – I never want t-to … never again…!"

Tears were falling from her chin. "I'd rather be dead–!"

"Shut up," Akane felt an unpleasant twinge as the fearful eyes turned on her; she ignored it.

The teen's hand drifted out and paused, and Midori shrank back. After a moment's hesitance the hand clapped onto her shoulder, and Midori noticed the faraway look with which the kunoichi regarded her as she spoke.

"You're alive, aren't you?" Akane murmured intently, as much to Midori as to herself. "All of this crap happened for a reason. Yeah…"

"U-uhm… Shinobi-san?"

"Listen to me, Midori," Akane said, giving her bony shoulder a squeeze. "I serve a man who will change this world. Fix it. Make it better. When he's through with it, there will be no more war, no conflicts, no greed of foolish and petty nations lusting after each other's power. You see?" Akane's heart was racing now; her eyes had gone bright with excitement, as they always did. "Everything _disgusting_ in this world – he will destroy it!"

"Can… can someone really do that?"

"He can! And he will, kid – but to do it, he needs supporters."

"Supporters?"

Akane nodded. "I can take you to him – when you see him, you too will see the ambition waiting to burst into reality, the power that rests upon his shoulders as a sovereign's cloak. My Lord Orochimaru – this is his name. If ever there will be a shinobi capable of turning this broken world on its head, it is him. He is the man who will lead us into an infinitely more glorious daybreak – and he can put you to use toward this end. If you join him, he will see that you become an amazing shinobi. With such power you will never be controlled or restrained again! Will you join us?"

Midori had been hanging on the shinobi's every word. "Yes… I will!"

Akane grinned coolly. "All right, then." Slipping an arm beneath Midori's, Akane stood, hoisting the kid to her feet. Her hand cupped green hair and pulled her close, in something of a rough, curt embrace. "Orochimaru-sama will find great use of you, girl. Believe me."

"I…" Midori clutched small hands in Akane's shirt, resting her cheek against her breast. That warmth… suddenly she cherished. She would follow this kunoichi anywhere, she realized. She didn't meet the older girl's eyes, but her fists balled tighter as she spoke. "Shinobi-san… until I am strong, will you protect me?"

Akane was surprised a moment. "Yeah… I guess I will.

"Now…" They separated, and the young woman reached into her bag, withdrawing something bundled in a napkin. "Eat this, before you keel over."

Midori unwrapped it carefully, and her mouth watered at the smell of the doughy roll stuffed with meat. She looked up with that starved-puppy face, eyes moistening in gratitude. "Shinobi-san…!"

Akane couldn't yet make sense of the warmth that washed her own heart and lit in her cheeks. She scowled, averting her eyes. "Enough with the 'shinobi-san' crap. Call me Akane. Got it? A-ka-ne."

"Akane…" Testing its sound on her lips brought a goofy, pleased little smile to the brat's face. "A-ka-ne… Aka-nee!"

"Y-you going to eat that or not, Midori? Let's get going."

Her face was positively adorable when she smiled that way, eyes shut, glowing with the sudden joy a mortal Reaper had brought about.

"Hai, Aka-nee-san! Thank you, Aka-nee-san!"

"H-hey, quit that…"

"Hai, Aka-nee-san!"

She never would.

**- ****外伝 ****-**

**Red and Green Two – End**


	6. Young Dragon's Gaiden 1

G3F\\\ Gaiden of the Three Failures

YD1

Those who've reviewed, thanks! At the request of **zunga**, here's the first part of... Well, you'll be able to tell fairly quickly who it's about. Set between 24 and 25.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own NARUTO.

* * *

The sky of the Land of Iron shed frozen tears on such a wretched evening as this one. Corpses of former samurai and innocents now stained a fiefdom's quiet streets.

Mifune's grim visage was as stern as the well-maintained katana he held to the throat of the youth in the mud before him. The wizened master was unsure of what to make of him as he glared down at the outsider, ready to end his life with a single sweep of his wrist.

From what he could surmise, the lad had torn up a band of rogues, once to have been counted among Mifune's own men, in defense of the villagers here. His mistake had been in striking out at one of the warriors in the group dispatched to bring the vagrants to justice. It had in all likelihood been ill timing. One had approached the fool young pup far too swiftly, perhaps, in the midst of battle. The warriors had retaliated; things had spiraled out of hand. Apparently none had lain a scratch on this child 'like a hurricane,' and Mifune himself had come upon the scene to see one of his finest generals go sprawling senseless to the icy muck.

Now he found himself unsure what to make of the half-grown beast on his backside in the mud, one eye shut and watering numbly above the dripping slice carved freshly across his face. Was he a threat to the peace here? Even so soundly bested, the teen held onto the blade in his hand as if to exhibit a refusal to yield, however fruitless his efforts had been. Most striking of all to Mifune, however, was the look in those odd eyes – the eyes of this one who both had the air of shinobi, and did not – as they savagely faced down the blade resting firm against the underside of his jawline. Part shinobi, part monster, with a fire in his eyes.

Ah – that was it. Here was how Mifune would determine what to make of him. So, to such a being, Mifune deigned to speak.

"Do you not fear death, boy?"

**Gaiden of the Three Failures**

**Young Dragon, One**

For a still moment he suspected he would not answer. If he did not, the general of Iron was not going to repeat himself. But then, gaze never wavering, the beaten foreigner spoke.

"If I let myself fear death, I will stop fighting. As I cannot live without fighting, I would sooner die than fall stagnant. I cannot afford to live fearing death, samurai-san."

"Hm? And why love fighting so much, child? Are you a dragon, that you know only how to strike out?"

"If I am a dragon, must I be a foul one?" he returned. "I fight to grow stronger; I _kill_ only to protect. My dearest comrades are unnaturally strong. If I cower for so much as a second, before a single clash or foe, or if I do not actively seek strong opponents out, they will leave me in the dust. I will not let myself be a friend who is no help to them against the enemies they will be expected to fight. Their powers grow by the day. Death is the risk I must take, in exchange for the strength to be gained by fighting always to survive."

"Just what are you hoping to forge, on such a reckless path?"

"The power to strike down my enemies. That is the most I can do to protect them now."

"But it is no longer. You are now to die, just as you have willingly risked it."

"I may not fear death, but I never implied that I would accept it, samurai-san. Perhaps the instant you move to kill me, I should strike out. Perhaps yours will be the head that rolls."

In the silence that ensued, the quirking of a hidden gray eyebrow marked the first change to Mifune's expression, if the miniscule action could be considered as much. The air rose as some incalculable force wafted invisibly about the young man on the ground, stirring, unreal. He was preparing to do something with his internal energy, but undoubtedly he bluffed… His hand was still clasped tight on his shortsword's hilt.

The challenge was futile even so. There was no way for him to triumph in a quick-draw against Mifune – his first attempt had failed disastrously, and he was especially disadvantaged in the position he was in now. Both knew it. The youth simply would not, or could not accept it.

_Someone who only knows how to live fighting, die fighting? _Such behavior was ungraceful; yet, if he had accepted his death as he properly should, Mifune surely would have killed him.

As it was, the boy with the fire in his eyes observed warily as the lord drew back and fully sheathed his katana.

"Your Iai strike was weak. Washi was derelict in a master's duties, after all…"

"How did you know…?"

"If you merely possessed the wakizashi that I myself awarded him, you might have killed him and stolen it. But that you wield our own arts, even at a rudimentary level, can only mean that at some time or another he taught you. But he erred; he taught you how to fight with the sword, but he neglected to teach you how not to. Perhaps still it was my mistake, to have expected any different of the shinobi…" Mifune turned with a sigh, walking a short way to inspect a few bodies on the ground. "Boy – did you kill the rats who were attacking the villagers here?"

"…Two of them," he conceded, getting to his feet.

"So, quite deplorably, the other four must now think to play dead in desperation…"

As Mifune said this, a still form clenched his hand and flung a fistful of dirt back at him. The old samurai shifted effortlessly to evade, and the rogue shoved to his feet and tore off the other way, attempting to flee. The others rose from where they'd fallen as well. They did not get far. Most of Mifune's men had recovered, and quickly barred their paths and subdued them. Soon all four were being held, hands bound behind their backs, and brought before Mifune.

"As samurai, we deal with our own," the man said, drawing his own shortsword. "You four no longer deserve the chance to reclaim your honor yourselves."

The boy spoke in shock. "You mean – you are just going to…?"

"These men, who were meant to be traveling our land to learn, to keep peace, and to practice the Way have turned their blades against the weak. Already they have slain a number of their brethren. They have betrayed their paths utterly and completely, and can no longer call themselves samurai; do not act as though you, an outsider, have the right to protest what happens here. It would be against the warrior's way for me to allow them to live."

"I am sorry for intervening in your affairs, then," the boy said, unreadable. "I will no longer. If you are truly sparing my life, I will leave your borders peacefully and never return."

"Oh? I've just told you that our way demands we clean up after ourselves. As the master of your master, I cannot let you roam free… not, at least, until I can impart on you what Washi did not."

The young man had tensed. "You intend to hold me here?"

"Until I deem you ready, yes. You will serve here, train with my samurai, and prove yourself fit to wield those blades. It's that, or I kill you where you stand. Choose…"

"Rock Lee, of the Leaf," the youth provided, brow stern. "You already know that I cannot accept death. Even if I could best you, I would prefer not to leave this place violently. I will pass whatever test you may throw at me, Lord…"

"Mifune," the man said, nodding back at him. He'd thought as much. The boy with fire in his eyes could make it yet. He smelled even less like shinobi than Washi had; Mifune decided to take this as a promising sign. "We shall see, then, Rock Lee. Do not despair; you will not be treated as a prisoner, and you will not be punished unless you do something warranting it. My goal is not to punish you."

"What is your goal, then, Lord Mifune? What do you intend to do, by keeping me here?"

"I will refine you." The boy was salvageable. Mifune could look at a warrior and determine in few words the path he was on, the future he faced – but he felt this promising dragon of a boy could be saved, even if the path he now unwittingly sought was a forbidding one.

_If I am able to do anything to help it… you will not grow into a blood-soaked warrior, who destroys everything in his path._

This settled, he returned to the matter at hand. His new pupil did not avert his eyes as, beneath the frozen rain, those who'd abandoned their sworn way were executed one by one.

**-青春の竜-**

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**End Part One**

**Mifune: **It won't work. You have power, but lack restraint.

**Lee:** Restraint will not defeat my enemies.

**Mifune:** Do you truly believe that the solution to every problem is to grow stronger?

Next, on the young dragon's tale: A Time Not to Fight.

Hinata0321


	7. Young Dragon's Gaiden 2

G3F\\\ Gaiden of the Three Failures

YD2

If you've reviewed, thanks! Looks like this sidestory will be four parts.

Disclaimer: I don't own NARUTO.

* * *

Mifune had found, as he'd first intuited, that Rock Lee was by no means a bad kid. He regarded his instructors with honest respect, even aware he was easily more powerful than most; he did not express bitterness or a sense of superiority around his peers in training, and though he bested them with sheer might at every spar, he was never swell-headed, but graceful in his every victory. His work ethic was admirable, and he tackled every challenge full tilt. He devoted his free time to further training. These virtues were valuable ones; in most areas, he excelled brilliantly.

The general peered from the window of the hut, gaze traveling down the hillside and to the river. On the stepping stones stood motionless figures, their knees bent, eyes shut, and auras calm. These were the trainee warriors he oversaw for the day – or, they were most of them. Farther upstream, at the waterfall, a lone figure stood grounded, his stance square and knuckles pressed together as he endured the weight of the crashing torrent upon his shoulders. As Mifune had returned from a stroll through the mountains minutes prior, he had found one student no longer meditating on a stepping stone, as instructed, but standing on one hand in the river, doing inverted pushups.

Rock Lee was not a _bad_ kid. His intent lay not in disobeying or spiting his masters when he deviated from their instructions, but rather some guileless compulsion to increase the difficulty of whatever task lay before him. This insofar innocent knack for restlessness crippled his ability to meditate properly. Problematic in its own right was the fact that some of his peers, less perceptive of the boy's pure intentions, were rapidly beginning to resent the young shinobi as a showoff or troublemaker, uncultured and attention-seeking.

Either way, as punishment for failing in meditation he had been relocated to the harsh waterfall; the disciplinary action was typical, though its cause was anything but, and the man had to wonder if in this case it constituted a punishment at all…

Movement in the corner of his eye brought Mifune from his reverie. The boy under the waterfall, fidgeting in boredom, had raised his hands to his head and begun doing squat jumps, smiling contently at the strenuousness of the exercise he had devised.

Mifune blinked, nearly incredulous.

Quickly composing himself again, he sighed and stood.

_How does one go about teaching such a creature?_

He paused. With a groan he rose and took two practice swords from a box full of them, and swept from the room.

* * *

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**Two: Mold Breaker  
**

The prospect of a rematch with Lord Mifune had caught Lee's attention quickly enough. The practice sword was not wood but dull metal, and its grip felt good in his hand. Most of all, the promise of a fight against a strong foe brought his blood to an eager boil.

The other trainees lined the bank, watching intently as Lee and Mifune faced each other, within striking distance, on two stepping stones. The combatants bowed; then Lee's hand clenched on the dull sword's hilt. The boy tensed and bent his knees, prepared to strike as the master's hand flowed to his own weapon.

Mifune did not move. His eyes held those of his opponent, but he stood almost fully upright, as if relaxed. Lee remained tensed, ready to move at any moment as he stared the man down.

Lee struck out, and was thrown off his feet as a sickening pain exploded across his cheek.

The practice blade that had hit him was dull, but heavy, and the wallop he had been dealt sent Lee turning with a jump on one heel, for a moment airborne, before sprawling on his side into the shallow water. He flailed once in confusion, trying to pick himself up and dropping again, but managed to turn his face out of the stream.

"It's true," someone was saying from the bank. "Even with a mere practice sword, the master's Iaidou is amazing…"

Hands trembling, Lee blinked at the sword that had fallen out of reach, at the coppery tang pooling in his mouth. Gathering his wits, he began to sit up, and glared in frustration at the man standing above him, blade apparently long since sheathed. The same move as before, and it had defeated him just as before.

"How?" he demanded. His fists clenched. "I attacked first. How did your strike land, and not mine?"

"My strike was finer."

Lee felt the pain throbbing in his cheek. "You have to teach me to strike like that."

"What do you suppose I've been trying to do?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "What…?"

Mifune sighed. "Listen, child… Your intent to strike is rigid and unwavering. It is driven on by a perpetual goal, and becomes as such itself. But while your overflowing intensity and physical presence may prove overwhelming to some, to stronger opponents it will only make your every motive plain as day – and simple to counter."

"If we are opponents, what other motive can we possess than to strike and win?"

"If the art of battle is truly so simple, why weren't you able to read _my_ strike? Did I betray any remarkable aggression?"

"So you hid your intent…"

"I did not _hide_ my intent, young shinobi. I did not bear it to begin with."

"Then you are telling me to strike without the intent to strike?"

"No. I'm telling you to practice restraint. Tame your passionate will, when you must; confine the spirit that blazes unchecked. Let your intent to strike manifest only as one with the strike itself. Then, and only then, will it be the strike that grants you victory. This is not weakness, Lee, but discipline."

The boy's brow furrowed. "I do not understand that."

"Perhaps, in time, you will." Mifune nodded. "It would behoove you to reflect on this, Lee. You intend to surpass me, don't you, so that you may walk away from this place when you please?" A surprised look confirmed his suspicions, and he chuckled. "You show your intent for all to see. If anything, I suppose it is redeeming, if not misguided, that you would rather at least surpass me than simply steal away, like a shinobi. But while you hope to test your strength, and prove yourself forcefully by your own path, our goals are more closely aligned than you might believe."

"And… and why is that?"

"You will never surpass me without learning what I can teach you."

Lee remained silent as Mifune turned and walked away. He looked down, humbled, and gritted his teeth. _I do not understand what you are saying, _he thought, pressing his hand to a growing bruise. _But I know that if I grow stronger, I can defeat you…_

"You alright, shinobi?"

The one who had approached him wore an earnest smile. He was tall, taller than Lee, with a broad frame and a heavy nose, but his face was not unkind. "You've got murder in your eyes. Don't look like that – you didn't expect to beat the master, did you? You've got guts, all the same."

With some hesitance, Lee took the hand the fellow trainee offered, getting to his feet. "Arigatou… Ken'ichiro-san, right?"

"O-ho, then the newcomer knows my name."

"So he's not as airheaded as he looks? Big deal."

Looking past Ken'ichiro, Lee's eyes found the speaker still on the bank. The small trainee, hair in a neat bun – Koaki – nodded warily, giving a sidelong look.

Nearby, another group of trainees simply glared.

* * *

At the mess hall that evening, Lee, who had for the past week found himself sitting alone, ventured to take a place next to Koaki and Ken'ichiro.

"You sure about that, _shinobi_?" Koaki asked, flashing a wry grin. "Sit with me, and you'll be outcast as well."

"Huh? What about Ken'ichiro-san?" Lee asked.

"He's got a strong family name to stand on; no one would give him grief over whom he chooses to sit with. But you, on the other hand…"

"Koaki, please," the larger youth whispered, and for a moment he actually looked the slightest bit flustered.

"I believe I have already grown rather estranged from the others..." Lee pointed out.

"Wonder why," Koaki scoffed.

Lee blinked. He did not know why, but a fair portion of the group seemed to think ill of him. That being said, he would much prefer to sit with these two, who had proven civil enough, than alone. "Wait – Koaki-san, why does anyone care who associates with you?"

The small man sighed and spoke softly. "See Shinwara-san over there?" He nodded subtly toward another table across the room, where a young man's words commanded the attention of the sizeable group around him. "First-born of the head of Kawazora. His family is an affluent and influential one – an old family that doesn't think women are fit to so much as hold katana, much less study the way of the warrior."

"That cannot be right," Lee said adamantly. "Male or female, people can follow the paths they choose."

"You– really think so, shinobi?" Koaki said it with some suspicion, but seemed to regard him in a new light all the same.

He nodded in fierce affirmation. "Certainly! But… hold on. What does that have to do with Koaki-san?"

Ken'ichiro's eyebrow twitched nervously. Koaki cocked his head to the side. "Are you daft, shinobi? Do I have to spell it out for–?"

"AH!" Lee exclaimed, flippant with surprised realization as he stood and pointed. "Koaki-san is female!"

And in reward for his overdue deduction, he was succinctly taken down by the young _woman's_ soup bowl ricocheting off his forehead.

* * *

It was not long after that, one morning of training, Lee retrieved his assigned wooden practice sword from the storage shack to find it many times its former weight.

Though initially baffled, after some experimenting he deduced that the thing had seemingly been hollowed out, and sealed filled with lead. While he could not fathom who had done such a thing, he was delighted.

It was with a youthful zeal and new vigor in his moves, a sparkle in his eyes and an eager smile on his face, that he tackled the long hours of form practice and group kata that day. When it came time for partnered practice, Lee was coated in a satisfactory sheen of dripping sweat. Kawazora Shinwara was quick to line up against him.

"You look tired, _shinobi…_?" Shinwara's particular use of 'shinobi' in lieu of Lee's name was quite apart from the endearment it had become when used by Ken'ichiro, and lately even Koaki. Presently, however, as Shinwara faced down an earnestly glowing Leaf shinobi who held a smile of sweet contentment, the scornful intent and haughty derision of his line was lost beneath his own confusion.

Lee grinned heartily as they bowed. "Wonderful, is it not – that someone has thought to fill my sword with lead? It is just a bit closer to the weight of the blades I am accustomed to."

The Kawazora son gawked, at this creature that struggled only to suppress chuckles of mirth.

When all the pairs had lined up, the order was called to start. Lee's heavy practice sword went in one stroke smashing down through Shinwara's block and swatting the young man flat to the ground.

"Thank you for the fight!"

* * *

For meditation that day, the trainees were brought out to a ravine. Each was to select a stone to hoist above them and hold in place as they cleared their minds.

"Become calm and unwavering as the stone; support it, become its counterpart, and balance it. Then you will not feel its weight," said the instructor who paced the line, eyeing each fledgling warrior in turn. Some shook, struggling visibly as the minutes wore on; some were stubbornly tense, and others wholly at ease. One, not quite falling into any of the aforementioned categories or even the spectrum that ran between them, held a boulder twenty times the size of any other's, and did so with a smile…

The man paused. "Rock Lee, what are you doing?"

"Sir! I am doing the exercise, sir!" Lee chirped happily.

"I… I can see that… Are you quite alright, lad?"

"Fantastic, sir!" he said dutifully, flashing a tooth-glinting grin.

"Ah… okay, then," the instructor said, face a bit paler as he continued on his way.

"You're insane, shinobi," Koaki grunted at his side. Lee glanced her way, blinking. While the male trainees had discarded their shirts, wearing only the uniform pants, the lone young woman wore in addition a cloth band over the tape that crossed her chest. Lee could nonetheless see the healthy lines of a supple body, the muscle tone that evidenced years of devotion to a firm conditioning regimen, and he felt a newfound spike of respect for his petite friend. She was stronger than met the eye.

Lee shook his head as she blushed, asking just what he was looking at. By his evaluation, the stone she held was barely within her capability; as such, by pushing her limits she had selected one larger than a number of those chosen by the young men. Even so, she endured the burden with a resolute stance and cool eye, breath controlled and steady. "You are quite strong, Koaki-san." He meant it in more than the physical sense alone.

"Do you mock me?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"I don't think mocking's his style, little tempest."

"Ken!" she complained.

Ken'ichiro smiled from Koaki's other side. With his size, he held easily the largest stone among the regular trainees. He smiled. "Koaki trains every day after the required work is completed – I don't know how she does it. I guess you two have that much in common, though."

She scowled. "If I'm not as physically strong as I _can_ be, I won't stand a chance against men. And in terms of swordsmanship, being as good as the others isn't nearly enough. Because of who I am, I'll have to be much better than the rest to even be taken seriously. Not that you would understand any of it, _shinobi_."

Lee's expression became reflective. "Fighting to overcome your disadvantage… actually, I might."

Before she could ask, a force shoved from behind against the large stone she held. Her knees buckled; she overbalanced, and her eyes grew in horror as she began to fall.

"_Abunai!_"

She landed on her front, swearing. She had been prepared to push the rock away in a frantic attempt to prevent its crushing her, but upon meeting no resistance in the action had merely sprawled flat on her face.

"Are you alright, Koaki-san? What happened?"

Lee stood beside her, the stone he'd scooped from her hands sitting comfortably atop his palm. What made her jaw drop – and indeed, imparted a similar effect on all around them – was his own boulder, which he had transferred to one hand and now held aloft above his head as easily as ever. She opened and closed her mouth. "I-I– I was pushed…"

"Who would do such a thing?" Lee gasped. Eyes scanning, he realized that Shinwara must have been walking by behind the line, but now stood frozen. He blanched visibly as Lee met his eyes, face fierce and holding a boulder per hand as if it were no uncommon feat.

"Kawazora-san! Did you see who did this?"

"Iiieeee! A-ah, I mean, no, I did not. More importantly, why not put those down before you hurt someone?"

Ken'ichiro groaned. Lee at least became aware that he was terrifying the entirety of the group. "Gomen nasai!" he said with a sheepish smile, and tossed the two stones away from anyone. Not a few trainees jumped as they met ground with a roar. "Wait… why were you not participating in the exercise as well, Kawazora-san?"

The young man regarded the shinobi with a scowl, turned up his nose, and strode away.

"Shinobi," Ken'ichiro sighed, sending a grim smile toward the retreating boy's back. "For whatever reason, I thought they were supposed to be super sharp or something."

* * *

"What? It was him?!" Lee cried.

"Keep it down!" Koaki chided, casting wary glances about the mess hall. Ken'ichiro noted cheekily that shinobi were louder than he'd imagined, as well.

"But why?" Lee asked. "You could have been seriously injured! How can he get away with such lowly conduct?"

"It's unfortunate," Ken'ichiro said, "but those from prominent families can easily have their misdeeds overlooked. Shinwara comes from the only clan bold enough to dissent openly against Lord Mifune's policies as the general of Iron. There have even been whisperings of a rebellion brewing among some of the great clans, with the Kawazora House at the core. Naturally, they were quick to publicly disown the overzealous fellows who took to ransacking the countryside…"

As Lee made the connection, his face darkened. _If that is so, _he realized, _one or both of the men I killed there may have been Shinwara-san's clansmen… _"What issue do they take with Lord Mifune?" Whatever else Lee thought of the stern man, he could not deny that he was a great warrior and just master.

"Not all are content with the pacifism he's maintained for so long," Koaki said. "Instead of enjoying the peace he's brought about after decades of turmoil, they see such a policy as power gone to waste."

"In addition, they're mostly moderate to strict traditionalists. Mifune's interpretation and teaching of the warrior's way isn't what bothers them, though. It's his open mind and accepting nature. As the Kawazora and a few other houses see it, women, commoners, and outsiders will only sully the Way. Mifune doesn't agree; he sees anyone with the will to learn as fit to train here." Ken'ichiro shook his head. "As I see it, the only ones sullying the Way are the supposed noble houses who think themselves so far above it."

"Outsiders…" Lee murmured. "Like Washi-shishou, and now…"

"Forget that," Koaki snapped, eyes shut as she massaged her brow. "Let's talk about something less heavy."

"Heavy…" Lee chuckled. "It is the strangest thing – my practice sword seems to have been filled with lead!"

"…Eh?" Koaki raised an eyebrow at his cheerful matter-of-factness; Ken'ichiro, in contrast, slammed a fist on the table.

"That scoundrel! So he's already targeting you as well…"

"Huh?"

"Wait, wait." The young woman shook her head. "That was what you were so happy about during training earlier?"

"Unfortunately, I broke his practice sword when he blocked…"

"Reaped what he sowed," she muttered.

"But earlier, with the boulder – that was unreal. Are all shinobi as strong as you?" Ken'ichiro interjected curiously.

"Physically? No," Lee said, "but I know of some who are stronger still."

"Hmm," the other young man muttered, thinking. "You're just so different from the shinobi I would've pictured…"

"What about ninjutsu?" Koaki piped up, curious but speaking just loudly enough to be heard.

"Aha!" Ken continued, "That's right! Do you have any cool techniques?"

Lee paused on a bite of soup, sitting straight to regard the eagerness of Ken'ichiro and the interest that shone through Koaki's impassive mask. Then he laughed aloud at the irony. The others exchanged a startled glance.

"Gomen!" Lee cried, clutching his sides. "What are the chances – that the second shinobi to train here, the first you have seen, would be one who cannot show you a single ninjutsu!" He snorted and guffawed even more.

Though he did not fully understand the foreigner, Ken'ichiro's eyes softened. Very slightly, a smile edged onto Koaki's face.

"I don't think it's chance, shinobi… _Lee_-san," she said with a hint of warmth, nodding. "You've come here for a reason."

**-青春の竜-**

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**End Part Two  
**

**Lee:** HAXORUS, HAX!

**Ken: **On the next episode of _Rock Lee and his Samurai Friends_-

**Mifune: **No.

**Lee: **You are no fun, Shishou!

**Mifune: **How about this - I'll tell you a story next time. That is 'fun,' right?

**Lee: **A story of daring adventurers and grand clashes?!

**Mifune: **No... a story of smiths.

Next time: **The Two Katana.**

-Hinata0321


	8. Young Dragon's Gaiden 3

G3F\\\Gaiden of the Three Failures

YD3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NARUTO.

* * *

Lee had pushed himself hard for the last month. At last he had challenged him; as before, he was soundly defeated.

–"_Come for a walk with me…"–_

He stood in Mifune's shadow, a hand resting comfortably against the hilt of the katana sheathed at his hip as they strode deeper into the moonlit bamboo forest. A mist of dew clung to every surface, filling the air with the smell of greenery and damp earth.

"Why do you suppose, Lee, that I once said you would never surpass me without learning what I hope to impart on you?"

Lee's brow furrowed as he peered into the old samurai's back. "…I do not know, sir."

Mifune halted at the edge of the glade, eyes searching calmly. "Would you believe me," he began, "if I told you that you are both stronger and swifter than I?"

The young swordsman frowned in puzzlement. "If that were so, I would be able to defeat you."

"So certain…"

Mifune nodded to a bamboo stalk. The two took identical stances before two tall bamboo plants that stood side by side. Two Iai strikes left only one of the stalks falling over, lopped in two.

Together the two resheathed their blades, and Lee quirked a brow at the unharmed bamboo shaft standing before the master, every drop of dew on its sleek leaves and skin undisturbed. Not a moment later, the plant slid apart at strike-height, the severed upper portion slipping down a smooth diagonal plane. When it fell freely, it speared the muck to stand upright beside its counterpart.

"The reason I can split this bamboo plant so cleanly is the very reason I continue to best you, despite your great strength. There is something else a warrior needs, to become indomitable… something not always so intuitively grasped."

"Restraint, right? But how will restraint defeat my enemies?"

Mifune's expression was somber as he regarded the youth. "You are a young man who has seen and felt the world's cruelty, and endured as _shinobi_. Restraint will quell perhaps not your enemies, but the plague that haunts your very heart."

Lee held the pair of weathered old eyes evenly.

"If I must suffer to defeat them… I _will_."

And Mifune frowned as he saw the dragon, blazing, thirsting, in the boy's eyes.

* * *

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**Three: The Two Katana, and a Time Not to Fight**

That Rock Lee was more powerful than his peers in training was mere fact. Because of it, and per the terms of his surrender, the child of shinobi was not infrequently called upon to accompany Mifune on field assignments. He had been toted along on a tour of Iron fiefdoms, and seen Mifune interact with the nation's people and hear firsthand of their needs. He had been put in samurai armor to pose as Mifune's attendant, as Mifune visited clans that regarded their general with thinly veiled hostility. With every snub or passive slight they dealt, Lee had suffered to hold in check; only miraculously did he manage not to snap back in defense of the man who, though Lee could rarely understand him, had for whatever reason decided to place his trust in a young shinobi.

None unawares ever identified Lee as shinobi, however. Apparently, he lacked the air of one.

Today he had again donned the armor of a samurai, and with four others accompanied his lord to investigate suspicious activity outside a fief three hours away by horseback. Details were scarce, but Lee was willing to stand by Mifune all the same.

Their band had arrived and tethered the mounts in town before Mifune led the warriors to an unremarkable rock formation a ways from the foot of a mountain path. Lee observed that the grass was pressed down on the side of the structure away from the road, and Mifune nodded. This was someone's frequent meeting place.

They hid themselves by the trees – digging, and covering with leaves and grass – and waited.

When about an hour had passed, and the cold sun was as high overhead as it would be, two men strolled up to the rock formation, and were joined by two more.

The first two – they were samurai, by the katana they bore and the way they dressed, but not common footsoldiers by the looks of them. The other two, however… something in their particular style of dress set off an alarm in Lee's skull. They were not from around here any more than he was.

The parties had a concise conversation, but were out of earshot. A coinpurse passed hands; a scroll was passed back. Then one of the men tensed – whispered something. At his words, hands went to hilts as eyes cast about.

Lee's brow furrowed. Surely they had not been detected? While even Lee, for sheer proximity, could sense the strong chakra of the warrior hidden at Mifune's other side, he had found that samurai had no aptitude for such a means of perception. Evens so, some samurai did subconsciously suppress their innate energies when hiding, as Lee and all shinobi did; Mifune was among them–

A knife was hurled straight for the warrior with strong chakra, and as Mifune's katana flashed out before the man a shuriken flicked from Lee's fingers to deflect the kunai knife before it hit.

_Shinobi?!_

A cry of surprise rose from one of the conspirators, and a foul word from another. The man beside the knife thrower rounded on the observers, hands flying together – only to have his hands slashed open by Mifune's unforgiving, fine blade Kurosawa.

A rapid advance, and a Quickdraw – it was true, then, that ninjutsu were worthless against the warrior general. Lee was promptly at Mifune's back, gutting the samurai who'd targeted the master from behind, and proceeded to launch a straw sandal forcefully into the other enemy samurai's jaw. As he did this, Mifune lunged gracefully to slam a hilt into the nose of the second shinobi, who'd begun to back away.

BOOF!

"A clone!" Lee cried, bolting off in pursuit of the real body as he spotted a figure dashing for the trees. Mifune drew to his side, able to maintain impressive speed as well, but they were losing sight of their target, getting only glimpses of a dark-clad, fleeing back through the trees. "I am going ahead!" Lee said, and opened the First Gate as he shot to the treetops.

He was a blur, flashing from branch to branch, and emerged from the forest to see the fleer, despite his desperate speed, quite a narrow margin ahead. A moment of full sprinting, and Lee leapt to land before the man and hurl a kick for his face. The shinobi leaned back, slipping outside the range of the passing strike, and lashed back with a knife. Lee's katana swatted back the blow, and he leapt over a vicious, whistling knife swipe, kicked from the man's shoulder, and spun sharply to descend behind his foe with a slash that was dropped from shoulder to side. The man screamed, and fell.

"Lee!"

Panting lightly, he looked back to see Mifune racing toward him. Seeing the master caused something within him to stir. Lee became exceedingly conscious of the blood on his blade, and realized for an alarming heartbeat how little he had felt – how little he still felt, as a man lay bleeding and crying at his feet. In that surreal moment, Lee shuddered.

Wavered.

No – no, he had learned better. He had nothing if not the cold resolve to fight and overcome. Hesitating was a poor habit, and would see him killed. He shook his head, hand clutching the hilt with furious strength if only to keep from casting it away.

Mifune reached him, and knelt by the fallen ninja. "Did you mean to cut so deeply?" he demanded of his student, without looking up.

"I…" Lee actually stuttered. What _had _he meant, as he dealt the strike? Disconcertingly, he could not recall. Stop him? Defeat him? Or… How had things gotten so mixed up?

"Can an intention be so inflexible and dull that it becomes lost altogether?" Mifune mused, not mocking but glum. "If your conscious and willful intent was to slay him, so be it. If it was anything but, you would do well to think about this–," He gestured toward the man, "the next time you decide to swing a sword around."

"Just stop it…"

"I cannot, Lee. You said that you would suffer if you must, to follow your way. If you feel suffering for thoughtless killing is suitable recompense for it, then at the very least, suffer." His eyes were deeply contemplative as he rested a calloused hand softly on his enemy's shoulder. "He will be dead in minutes. In such a state as his, he will not speak from now until then. If you are capable of nothing else, grant him the stroke of mercy."

For the first time in too long a while, Lee hated himself for taking life.

Teeth clenched, he drew his wakizashi, lifted his victim from a pool of spilt blood, and cleanly removed his head.

* * *

The two had returned to a mess of death. The two samurai caught holding an unauthorized exchange with shinobi had been a lesser lord of the Kurayamiki, and the lord's personal vassal. The one Lee had initially struck down in defense of Mifune was the lord; the one he had merely kicked, the servant.

…How had he even decided who to kill? Chance? Had he become so inclined to random murder?

In the end it mattered not. The vassal had broken free from the men who held him, fatally stabbing one of them before slitting the throat of the other captive – the shinobi whose hands Mifune had slashed – and then his own. Lee could place no identifying marks on the shinobi in terms of origin, and they wore no insignia. The purse one held was filled with gold coins, and the scroll taken from Kurayamiki's corpse set itself aflame when opened. In the end, the day truly yielded naught but death.

What remained of their party rode in silence until nightfall, the riderless horse tethered to Mifune's. They took up camp in a cave; the inn in the last town had been short of space, and Mifune was not the type of general to uproot commoners for his own comfort. As the junior of the group, Lee tended the horses alone but thoroughly, thanking them for their hard work before he sought the warmth of the cave. Aside from their leader, the others were settled, sleeping hard after the day's wretched events. Mifune gazed into the fire before him, back straight and stern eyes unreadable.

"Eat," the man said, gesturing toward a last bowl left sitting near the heat of the flames. Lee sat, and after several minutes he began, so slowly, to do as told.

"You think I am evil," he said. "A demon – a dragon. A bringer of foul days."

Mifune sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can you imagine it, Lee – the dishonor dealt to one whose life is taken by the opponent who kills him without thought or intent? A stronger man's reflex is a sad way to die. It matters not if they were scum; we honor all those with whom we do battle."

"I know…!"

"If only your knowing could mend eternal suffering…" Mifune looked up. "You're not a bad person, Lee. But you know power, and lack restraint. One cannot exist without the other."

"So you hope to refine me…" Lee paused in thought. "One, without the other – it cannot exist, or it must not be allowed to?"

Mifune did not correct him.

Lee nodded, taking a generous spoonful of his soup. "I have made no progress. I am not wise; I still understand little of what you say. All of that being said…" He took in another spoonful, and swallowed. "I may be ingesting poison right now."

"You think like a shinobi yet. If you do not progress in any meaningful way, I will fight and kill you myself."

"Of course."

"Naturally, if you do progress sufficiently, I will be hard-pressed to kill you in a trial by combat."

"I cannot die here, but I will not run away, either. I will grow strong enough to ensure you cannot kill me."

"Fool!" Mifune barked. "I am saying that you're not progressing _because_ your solution to every problem before you is to grow stronger!"

"If I can overpower my enemies, what else is necessary?!"

One of the other warriors stirred in his sleep.

Mifune lowered his voice, scowling. "What are those blades to you, Lee? Merely an instrument by which you enhance the lethality of your _taijutsu_? No," he spat. "They are an extension of yourself – your body, your will, your intent. They are not tools to allay the responsibility of your enemies' deaths, for the blade itself cannot choose to kill. Never forget this. Swing your katana only with the purest intent of inflicting the consequences you dish out."

Lee's stubborn fierceness had deflated. He hung his head, suddenly weary. "I will try to understand it. I truly will."

Mifune's eyes softened, though his face remained stern, his head high. "I hope for your success, for I would not like to kill you; you've erred, nothing more, nothing less. You were never a bad kid, Lee. I told you to suffer, because though your guilt is paltry recompense for their lives, it is all you have to offer… but should you succeed, and learn to make your strike only as one with your intent, you will have no cause for remorse any longer. I do hope you succeed."

"Hai…"

But the answer was dull. Mifune could see the misery in his pupil's downturned eyes. The boy's thick brows trembled. It had been far too long, perhaps, since the boy had last put thought into combat, or let himself feel. But submitting to despair now would not do.

"Don't dwell too deeply on it for now; you will understand when you understand, and when you find the right answer, you will know it for what it is. As a master and pupil, let us talk of less forbidding things. Here – I will tell you a story."

That caught Lee's attention. "A… story, sir?"

"Not just any story. A tale of restraint and power, and the harmony that should exist between them." The man prodded the crackling fire with a straight twig. "Have you heard of the legend of Masamune and Muramasa?"

"No, sir. Are they great warriors?"

"Hmph! Not so well-known in the lands of shinobi, perhaps. Very well. To begin…" He thought a moment, on the tale known to all samurai. Then he spoke.

"In the days long preceding the rise of ninjutsu and shinobi, there lived the humble Masamune. It's said few could hold a candle to his skill with the blade. Even so, he considered such skills secondary at best. He was renowned not as a warrior, you see, but as a great – even the greatest – swordsmith."

"Ouch!" Lee yelped as the flat of Mifune's katana smarted against his arm. "What did I do?"

"Don't show that disappointment on your face, boy! Where do you think the blades you wield come from, if not for smithies?"

"Hai!" Lee bowed his head. "Please continue, sir."

The master 'hmph'ed again, one eyebrow quirked. "As the most common version of the legend goes, Masamune trained many pupils, but none more brilliant … than Muramasa. One day, the ambitious Muramasa challenged his master to a test of craftsmanship, to see whether he or Masamune could forge a finer katana. The challenge afoot, the two toiled for weeks on end to craft blades that would win the regard even of gods. At last, the time came to test the products of their efforts."

"…With a swordfight?" Whap! "Ouch! Ah, sumimasen!"

Mifune groaned, eyes shut. This boy had a one-track mind… "No. The two met beside a beautiful creek untouched by the desecration of wars or foibles of human will. Muramasa strode confidently to the creek and plunged his blade into the muck, its cutting edge against the clear current, and marveled at how it sliced without fail through all that moved against it or chanced to pass its way – the water, the fish within, the soft lotus blossoms afloat on the surface, and the very air the world breathed, without so much as a sound.

"Masamune's blade, contrarily, stirred ripples and undulations in the current about it; fish bumped and flitted around it, blossoms that met it rolled swirling past, and the air sighed gently around its blade…"

"What? But… why would the master forge such a weak katana?"

"Weak? Hoho… Indeed, though eager to relish in his apparent victory, the young Muramasa did afford a moment to scoff at his master's creating so laughable a weapon. Tell me, Lee – which katana do _you_ believe was finer?"

Lee hesitated in thought, and shook his head. "A sharper sword is obviously superior…"

"You've still much to learn, indeed…" And Mifune doused the dying embers left on the ground between them.

"Wait. That is it? But how does the story end?"

"Who is this, so suddenly interested in an old man's fairy tale of smiths?" the general retorted. "Get some rest; we leave at first light."

"Yes, sir…"

**-****青春の竜****-**

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**End Part Three**

**Mifune: **The fool… The bloody fool…! He had a chance!

**Ken'ichiro: **Idiot shinobi! (sniffles) I told him to stay out of it, but now…

**Mifune: **A selfless act; the law of the land. The insufferable overachiever brings misfortune crashing down upon his head. A trial that has never been survived…

**Koaki: **Then he'll be the first. He'll come back. He's special.

**Lee: **I have met a worthy opponent indeed.

Next time, in the conclusion of a Young Dragon's Gaiden – **Part Four: Ordeal, and Ascension**.

Meh… Anyone still there?

-Hinata0321


	9. Young Dragon's Gaiden 4

G3F\\\Gaiden of the Three Failures

YD4

Hello!

Ffffff so many tests this week! And all the homework due at once! But once I survive it, it's home for spring break and early-birthday-present Ultimate Ninja Storm 3! :D Oh yeah, and finishing Toward the New Age, II ^.^;

**Note** that **I'll be changing my username shortly**. I'm just not sure whether to wait until after I've posted the next chap of the main story, so I can announce it there first.

Thanks, all, for reviewing! Also, Dan - you can call me Fran :)

Here's the final chapter of this sidestory! ...That's what I would say, but it turned out longer than the other three combined. *Chops in two* Yep, it's a five-part sidestory now!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own NARUTO.

* * *

_The same dream… again?_

"_Fight. Win. Grow Stronger… Make me larger."_

_It is boundless. Amorphous. Its iridescent body is fluid, and overflows perpetually from the constraint of glittering scales and skin. Not even gravity can contain, or sway it: it pours itself about the available space and flourishes in all directions at random, branching like a river unbound, writhing and twisting, blossoming into a million bursting flowers of light. A massive, vivid mess of a thing, that never ceases in its dance… or its mantra._

"_Fight. Win. Feed me…"_

_A lip that wrinkles inquisitively; a chin lightly inclines. "Are you not large enough already?"_

_The man, with scarred face and scarred body unclothed, looks upon the spectacular beast. An array of long-since dried and withered marks runs from one shoulder to his opposite hip; still, his body is so strong. More remarkable even than his clear strength is something intangible he exudes, like budding wisdom._

_The beast thrashes and undulates wildly, a rolling blaze tumbling over itself and exploding, bursting about and falling apart with nothing to hold it together. It is a mad thing._

"_Stronger, grow stronger. Fight. Win. Stronger. Larger. Stronger!"_

_The man frowns. This creature – it seems diseased. "That is enough. _You_ will obey _my_ will. Now settle down!"_

_At his words it halts, so briefly in confusion, and its true shape is ascertained. It is something great and horrifying._

_Then it breaks from his hold with a scornful roar, betrayed and furious. Indignant. And it explodes toward him, dripping, many-colored maw opened wide as rows of jagged, crumbling teeth manage to take ghastly form._

_He can never move, as it sweeps to devour him. He can only breathe one desolate thought._

"_Will you, perhaps … become all that I am?"_

_CHOMP!_

Lee jumped, snapping from his dreamlike meditation. Sweat stung his wide eyes as he grasped at his chest and choked on the air. Rigorously he shook his head, and calmed. It was only the same dream, and nothing more. He scowled glumly down at his hand.

"A dragon called _chikara, _huh?"

It was only a recurring dream. He stood, grabbing the uniform that designated him a trainee here and preparing to dress for the day. A dream could not shake him; he was too strong for such nonsense. But, still…

"It always ends with it consuming me…"

* * *

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**Four: Ordeal  
**

"Agh!"

_Splash!_

When training had ended for the day, Lee had issued yet another challenge.

"That won't do," Mifune said as Lee picked himself up, out of the stream. "You're still trying to hide your intent rather than erase it."

"It makes no sense!" Lee cried. "How am I to face an opponent without the intent to defeat him?"

"Let go. Detach yourself from the turmoil that ails you. Stop willing, stop desiring, and stop hating, and you will comprehend peace; feel only the calm, the wind around you and the earth beneath your two feet, until the proper time to strike reveals itself to you."

Lee shook his head. "That all sounds wise and well, but I am still getting nowhere! I need to figure out how to do this!"

"Fend off your despair, child," said Mifune, "and you may find the answer in time, yet."

And the general left him. Glowering at his feet, Lee kicked once at the stream water; he shuddered through a deep breath. Eventually his emotions cooled down, and he headed, late, for the mess hall.

* * *

Lee was so preoccupied, as he walked up the hallway, that he nearly stumbled upon the hushed altercation before he detected it. Catching himself before he rounded the corner onto another hall, he pressed his back to the wall and silenced his breath.

"Where are those bothersome friends of yours, Sengo? You finally got careless; you should have kept them close."

"What's this all about, Kawazora-san?"

_Sengo… Koaki-san's family name…? _Lee peered around the corner, eyes narrowed. Surely enough, the young woman soon tried to step past the Kawazora heir and his lackeys, but a belligerently smiling Shinwara pushed her roughly back. The handful of others with him moved subtly to stand behind her, barring another potential path. Shinwara would not be dismissed easily.

"Enough of your games," Koaki said, her voice controlled, both soft and fierce. She spoke directly to Kawazora's snide face. "If you have an issue with me, you should take it up properly in a duel."

The smug smirk twisted into a scowl of contempt. "I refuse," he hissed. "Facing me in combat? Who are _you_, to be granted such an honor? You expect me – me! – to bow to the demands of an unworthy creature? Wicked, evil woman!"

She made no move to defend herself. His open hand cracked harshly across her face.

Koaki didn't even let herself stagger. Straightening stubbornly, she regarded the seething young man with a cool glare. His hand curled into a fist.

Lee's rounding the corner and flinging aside a young man in his way drew Shinwara's attention swiftly enough from his intended prey. Lee stepped up to Koaki's side, brow stern. "Shinwara-san," he greeted flatly.

"Lee!" Koaki hissed, disgruntled. "What are you doing? I can fight my own battles…!"

"Being held up in an empty hall and blatantly denied the right to a proper match is not a situation that I would call a battle."

"If it isn't Mifune's pet shinobi!" Shinwara scoffed, though his face had initially paled at Lee's arrival. "Just like you, to butt in where you don't belong!"

"Coward," Lee said, and the other young man's outrage only grew.

"Watch your tongue, outsider, or I'll have it cut off!" Shinwara said, emboldened as he lifted his nose. "Do you forget to whom you speak?"

"What's going on here?" a new voice boomed, and all eyes turned to Ken'ichiro as he strode swiftly up the hall. The usually easygoing youth's brow was stern, and his voice commanding.

"They were harassing Koaki-san," Lee muttered, still radiating hostility. Shinwara snorted.

"Look at them," the Kawazora said. "All the poor fools who've been bewitched by a strumpet's wiles."

Lee's fist was cocked back when Ken'ichiro grabbed the shinobi around the waist and lifted him up, preventing him from approaching the target of his anger. Ken had known that simply catching Lee's wrist would not stop the strike; the smaller boy was simply too strong. Shinwara, who had let slip a squeak of alarm, reddened in some mixture of dismay and resentment.

"Are you out of your mind, Lee?" Koaki said, having moved in front of Lee to provide another barrier between him and Shinwara. "Calm down and think – you must not strike him!"

"Let go of me, Ken'ichiro-san!" Lee would hear none of it, but he would not force his way free if doing so would require harming his friend. Ken was counting on as much. "I guarantee you he would not act that way if someone stood up to him!"

"Then let me handle it, you fool!" Ken grunted. "I'm in no danger here!"

"Danger?" Lee echoed, pausing in his struggles.

"You really are dense," Shinwara said, coldly smug. "It's fortunate that Okazaki Ken'ichiro is mindful of your station, since you lack the foresight to mind for yourself. You're an outsider – beneath even the likes of _commoners_! My clan could have your head for disrespecting their heir – it would be _easy_. A Kawazora's demands do not go unheeded."

Lee hung his head, teeth clenched bitterly. He could not die here… Feeling him relax, Ken'ichiro hesitantly lowered him back to the ground.

"That look suits you," Shinwara said, an oily smirk on his face as he looked down his straight nose, at Lee's downcast eyes. He gestured to his crew, triumphant, and turned. "Come, friends. I grow weary of such company – that of these _people_ who defile the warrior's teachings."

Shinwara knew he had won. But he could not help it, as he passed behind a carefully impassive Koaki, to stop and deliver one more verbal jab, muttered at her ear.

"You would do well to consider my advice, _whore_."

And noble blood flew as Lee's fist went crunching into his straight nose.

* * *

"Did you think I could protect you?"

"No… no. I never asked for anyone's protection."

"Then what exactly were you thinking, as you threw that strike?" Mifune's face was red, and his voice softly thunderous, as he regarded the youth before him. His words fell rapidly into the room. "Do you suppose that bullheadedness will save you, when the leader of the Kawazora arrives to take off your head?"

Lee did not need a reminder that said clan head was riding for the military base as they spoke, having elected to carry out the execution himself. "Lecturing a dead man? What does it matter now?"

"Does it not matter? When you struck out thoughtlessly, Shinwara won. He has one less obstacle to trouble him. So you knocked him through a wall. He will heal, and resume training whilst continuing to torment Sengo Koaki unimpeded…"

When Lee glowered darkly, his smirk was smarting. "Then if I was going to do something thoughtless, perhaps I should have simply killed him?"

He actually saw the strike coming before the flat of Mifune's katana bludgeoned into the side of his face, throwing him to the floor. And Lee froze, for he realized he had insulted the general, the master of tranquility and discipline, to the point of striking out in rage.

"Imbecile!" Mifune shouted. "I had faith in you! I placed my life in your hands, and this is how you repay me?! By ruining it all with a petty fight?! You had a _chance_!"

And Lee understood the man's frustration – for even if Mifune had not wished to kill him, it would have been preferable to see a pupil die in honorable combat, and fail if he did on his own terms.

Ashamed, Lee sat up. He wiped the spittle gingerly from the corner of his mouth, and bowed his head.

"Forgive me, shishou."

He stood and turned, and the two samurai at the door came to rebind his hands firmly behind his back, so tightly that Lee winced. The escorts at his side, he paused once at the door.

"You have done all you could for me. All the same, we cannot change anything now. In the end I am still a failure. Death is what it means to fail here, right?"

He took one last look at his master of just six weeks, and Mifune was at a loss as he regarded the tears in his pupil's smiling eyes.

"Sayounara, shishou."

The doors opened and shut, and Mifune was alone. He swore in the silence. He rubbed his temples. For several minutes he did not move.

Then the great samurai rose, and swept from the room.

When Lord Kawazora came riding up with a vassal who bore his standard, on horses run ragged and slicked with sweat, he found the coolly smiling general of Iron waiting to greet him at the gate.

* * *

"I apologize for calling you aside, with a request on such short notice.

The middle-aged lord sipped his tea, eyeing Mifune with distaste. "I hear rumors of the pet shinobi you've grown fond of keeping close," he said flatly. "And this _boy_ you've sheltered, and made a project of taming – he is _shinobi_ as well, correct? I don't know where you picked him up from, nor do I care. It is to my understanding that he knocked my first son through a wall unprovoked. Surely you can understand that I am… _hesitant _to consider many requests that might delay the barbarian child's fate?"

"I understand completely," Mifune said. "Perhaps 'request' was a poor choice of words. I have a proposition for you – an adjustment to his sentence, if you will."

Kawazora opened his mouth with scorn on his lips, but Mifune spoke three words before he could protest.

"The Frozen Vigil."

Kawazora's eyes grew, and his mouth popped open without a sound. For a moment, he was actually dumbstruck. "That… that punishment? The ordeal of the penitent?" he said, suspicious. "You yourself denounced it as barbaric and cruel. And was it not you who pushed to have it removed from practice altogether, twenty years ago?"

Mifune's eyes were shut as he lowered his mug of tea. "Perhaps I was a fool, to think the likes of a shinobi might be salvageable. I realize it now; all shinobi are monsters. I have no use for him any longer, for he has betrayed and wasted my faith. A swift death is too kind for a creature so insufferable … wouldn't you agree?"

"Hm…" Kawazora contemplated, and finally smiled a slick smile. "You surprise me, Lord Mifune. Yes – this is far more suitable a punishment, for a lowly being's impudence… How old is the boy?"

"He says he is recently fifteen."

The clan head seemed to delight silently, entertained to no end by this delectable turn of events. "Then he shall be not only the first in decades, but the youngest ever to be subjected to the ordeal of the penitent as well. And you – condemning your own pupil to a slow and honorless death before the mountain's wrath! You've changed, Mifune."

"Perhaps I have…"

Kawazora chuckled in mirth. "Very well. I accept your proposal."

This settled, the other man soon set out for the guest wing. Alone again, Mifune gazed solemnly from his window; pensive eyes fell on a stark-topped, cloud-shrouded mountain that towered in the distance, cloaked forever in wind and whipping snow.

* * *

When Koaki was allowed to enter Lee's cell, the usually distant girl saw her friend bound to the wall in chains, and she fought tears.

"Uh… hi," Lee said, nodding awkwardly.

The girl cried out, running toward Lee and striking, so gently, against him. "Lee!" she sobbed. "You idiot – look at you!" And she hung her head before him, one hand still resting against his scarred chest. "Why…"

"Koaki-san… can I ask what Shinwara-san said to you, before I arrived? What was his 'advice' to you?"

She averted her eyes. "He said that I should drop out of training, and leave here. That I would be more suited to making my home in the brothels."

"And you stood up for yourself, so he struck you. Now, because of some relative status, we are to accept that he is not so much as at fault…"

"He didn't send me through a wall."

Lee grimaced. "If I had struck him less… severely, I would still be in this mess, right?"

"Probably."

"Then I have no regrets, for standing up to the perpetration of an injustice."

Koaki couldn't meet his eyes for long. "Baka…"

The ensuing quiet was broken rather abruptly when Ken'ichiro barreled into the cell, distraught. "Lord Mifune – he's persuaded the lord of Kawazora to increase the sentence!"

Only one visitor was allowed at a time; one of the guards he'd pushed past to get in here made a show of saying as much, and tugging on the Okazaki son's shoulder. He shrugged the man away and pulled forward again. Koaki frowned, startled.

"You can't increase a sentence of death, Ken!"

"Can't you?" he cried. "Then what would you call the Frozen Vigil?!"

"There's no way…!" Koaki said. Two guards succeeded in pulling Ken'ichiro away.

"Lord Mifune's gone mad!" he yelled, before the cell door slammed shut. A minute of terse silence later, the door opened, and another guard grabbed Koaki's arm to half-drag her from the room as well. She looked back at Lee, half horrified, half apologetic, and with no idea of what to say before the iron door slammed shut between them.

* * *

"How bad is it, Ken?"

The two had stopped a ways down the halls of the prison block. Ken'ichiro had taken a seat on a bench, and sat with his head down, fingers woven behind it. He looked up as Koaki touched his shoulder, eyes grim but determined.

"You know what it entails, right? Tell me."

He smiled wryly, eyes sad. "I always thought it such a hassle, that my clan required extra studies in things like etiquette, politics, and history. Yes – I know of it. The Ordeal of the Penitent, a punishment more commonly known simply as the Frozen Vigil, is an old custom dating back to the warring days. It was outlawed two decades ago."

"If it's been outlawed, how can Lord Mifune–?!"

"Lord Mifune was the one to outlaw it. And if the nation's general and the lord of the Kawazora House feel like breaking one measly law together, who's going to stop them?" he said, bitter.

"Ken…"

He shook his head, and looked her in the eye. "Are you sure you want to hear this, my friend?"

Koaki's lip trembled, but she held firm. "Lee will suffer through it himself. I can bear to at least hear of what torment he is about to face; if not, I would be a true failure as a friend. Tell me, Ken'ichiro. I must know whether it is truly hopeless as they say."

Ken took a breath, as if to ground himself, and patted a hand on the bench space at his side. When the girl was seated, he spoke, his eyes trained carefully on the cold floor as he recalled. He knew that it could be beginning, even as they spoke.

"The mark of Repentance will be painted on his forehead, to symbolize and supposedly guide the struggle of a wayward soul for atonement. He will be dressed in one layer of clothing, nothing more, and provided a simple dagger with which to hasten the end of his own life. It will be bound tightly to his right hand, so that it cannot be cast away with premature resolve, and so that even if his fingers and hands should grow completely numb and unable to grasp, slitting his throat might not be beyond his capability. If the condemned chooses to do so, however, and yields to the temptation to escape his terrible suffering, he is considered not only unredeemed but unspeakably dishonorable, and denied so much as a proper burial."

Koaki shifted uncomfortably. Ken ground his teeth and pressed on.

"You know what is next. Thusly prepared, the condemned is marched to the peak of the tallest of the Three Wolves, to be left to the mercy of the unceasing storm. He is to sit in place and contemplate his sins, and to lament while the harsh cold of the elements slowly tears him apart."

Koaki rested her forearms on her knees, face pale. When she spoke, she found she was somehow breathless. "He's a shinobi. He can escape…"

"It would have to be now. If he tries to flee back down the mountain, archers stationed at the base will shoot to kill him. Forward from the peak… I doubt even shinobi, with their use of chakra to defy gravity, can walk down a sheer cliff face covered in feet of loose snow. But do you really think he would run, Koaki? Our Lee is not that kind of shinobi. He will face this as he does any challenge, even knowing it guarantees his painful and honorless death."

Koaki looked at him. "Ken… How often did people survive it? If the accused lasts to the daybreak, he's a free man, right? I heard…"

"You heard correctly – it _is_ promised that one who lives to see the daybreak is absolved of the charges, along with his guilt, and can leave the ordeal with his honor unchallenged." He met the girl's eyes, mournful. "But that's just it, Koaki. Living is the only path to reclaim his honor. The night is fourteen hours here, at this time of year. The vast majority of Lee's 'predecessors' killed themselves after less than two."

"But… surely…?"

"No… some gave in at five hours, and once a man lasted almost six. Among the few to refrain from utilizing the blade, or trying to, all were found long since frozen to death by the time the dawn broke upon them. Do you see now why it is so cruel? It is disgraceful to subject even the foulest human being to such condescension. The ordeal is an execution, masquerading as a trial in terms alone. Those sent to receive the mountain's judgment all, without exception, die–!"

"He won't."

Ken'ichiro hadn't realized it, but his tone had been heightening in frustration. He regarded his small peer, and the fire in her eyes, mutely.

"Lee will not die. He can't – not like this. He's strong!"

"The ordeal has eroded the will and sanity of grown men, Koaki. No one has ever–,"

"Then he'll be the first!" Koaki said, standing. "Lee won't use the dagger, and he won't give in. And _I_ won't believe he's been defeated until I see his dead body."

Ken'ichiro said nothing. Then, as a knot had formed and was tightening in his throat, he stood and wrapped his large arms around his small friend before she could see him weep.

* * *

Alone on the mountaintop, betrayed by his master and facing the unadulterated might of the bitter cold, Rock Lee came to understand true misery.

He had begun the trial resolute, as many long before him had. He needed only to survive the night, after all; if he did nothing at all, and if he could tolerate the cold, and if his strong body held out, he would be free. It would not be pleasant, he knew, but it was a challenge he felt he could quash with his unbreakable will. He could not die here, so he would survive – going in, it was as simple as that.

Then he had realized that the mountain thought nothing of his great resolve, for the cold had permeated his flesh and seeped into his bones. Hard muscles burned and quivered frantically beneath a layer of ragged clothing, and he at some point hunched over, wrapped his arms around his thighs, and tucked his forehead behind his knees, refusing to close his eyes for fear of falling asleep.

Eventually he found that all of the burning, and all of the stinging, had vanished along with his shivering, and he realized, furiously, that his body was giving up. He wrenched open the first of the Inner Gates in defiance, letting his chakra blaze, but in seconds the Kaimon faltered shut. His focus had not been strong enough. A few more desperate tries served only to exhaust him, and set his body searing afresh with the cold. His extremities screamed, his hands and feet aching with steady, needling, and then stabbing pain. Minutes came and went, without relief, in the frozen darkness. There was no end in sight; there was nothing in sight at all. Wild eyes rimmed with frost, Lee looked upon the twitching, blue and all but deadened fingers of one of the hands before him, and upon the other bound and locked firmly around the hilt of a plain but keen dagger, and his lip curled back from his teeth, and he threw back his head to howl his outrage into the whipping wind and swirling snow.

It was a vocalization that cursed the storm, cursed his failings, and cursed the contemptible nation that would condemn a man for striking a pompous bigot. What kept him here? He could dodge arrows; even in this weakened state, he could stand up, turn around, and descend the mountain, and with only the dagger tied to his hand he could kill them all, and keep killing. Mifune was the only man who might stop him, and would certainly do as much without fail – but there was no worse a fate the samurai could hope to dole out than this, so there was nothing to lose. How much suffering, Lee wondered, how much retributive misery could he wreak, before the general's fine blade Kurosawa found him to fulfill Mifune's promise?

And Lee lowered his head, burying his face in his bare, unfeeling hand; his shoulders shook in a dry sob, for he had humored the dragon that dwelled in his heart, and found it thoroughly disgusting. Before the influx of raw horror, his rage fled him, and with it his will. Thus he was left empty, as before alone with his suffering, his only solace the promise of oncoming death. He gripped his shoulders the best he could, unblinking as a gust of cutting wind battered his face and hair.

_I see – I see. It is the worst way to die. So this is my punishment? Only monsters and inanimate forces of nature can kill without intent. The latter, to vanquish the former… But is it a lack of intent? Or does the god of this mountain now scowl at my idiocy, as it crushes me like a bug?_

He shivered violently, eyes watering. His head fell back. _Think, think. I can change. Of course I can change, damn it! This is horrible – I see it now. I have no right to kill without intent! Think! Power – weakness. Desire is weakness? Then lack of desire… the mountain does not desire but simply is, so something lacking intent will kill me. Unless… unless…_

His streaming eyes had taken too much fascination in the dagger-hand he held before him. There really was too much pain. High-pitched laughter shuddered in his throat. _I have__ lost it, then…_

The blade was at his cold neck.

He was not afraid. He had spent too much time beating back his fear of death, stamping it into submission. Fear of death was for those content with being weak.

"The mountain's judgment? Who are you to torment me, to judge me?! I will not be defeated by the likes of you – I am strong! I am stronger than all of you! And I CAN kill with intent, here and NOW!"

And his arm tensed, for surely, surely he had the power to remove one more monster from the world…

–"_If I have the power to defeat my enemies, is it not given that I also have the power not to?"_

"_I sometimes wonder, as I watch you fight. You think to equate the exercise of restraint to doing nothing, Lee, but it is not always so."–_

The wind buzzed in his ears.

"…Lord Mifune…"

Lee had never been betrayed at all. In the only way he could, Mifune had given Lee a chance, a bleak and painful chance though it may be. As Lee realized this, his eyes watered; he was such a fool.

"Y-you still … believe in me, even after I failed you again and again…?"

The boy's teeth ground as he was nearly bowled over by a buffeting wind.

"I see," he said to the storm, bare hand shuddering in the snow beside him. "I cannot defeat you, but I _can_ defeat myself." To defeat, however, needed not to mean to kill – for in the presence of the force of desire, restraint was indeed not simply doing nothing, but overcoming the urge to give in to desire's inclinations. Giving in would be easy – even natural.

The knife-hand fell from his throat.

"I get it now! There will always be stronger enemies, but so long as I can defeat my desire, I can face any one on even ground! The desire to end this torture… the desire to fight, and to win… I will defeat them now!"

And as this new understanding dawned on him and sparked through his skull and his veins, Lee saw in his mind's eye a true mess of a creature – a dragon, called _chikara_. But this time, in the lifting darkness, it shrank, and became less wild and terrible.

'_Behold,' _a wiser self was saying, from some parallel plane of existence, a rough hand gentle at the distraught dragon's muzzle as he nodded toward the great mountain and storm. _'No matter how large you become, we will never best such a foe.'_

Overwhelmingly dwarfed, the humbled companion dragon shrank back, its rage cowed, and bowed its head – almost abashed. _'Do not despair,' _said the man, warmly, for despite whatever torment it had brought about, the beast would forever remain a part of him. _'I will summon your full power, when it is needed. Rest, and gather your strength until then.'_

And its long body solidified, became sleek and beautiful, as it shut its shining eyes and discovered sweet peace.

Lee's eyes opened, his brow stern. "I can face you now," he told the blizzard. He removed the sleeveless rag that served him for a shirt. It hurt him terribly to manipulate lethargic, aching limbs, but it had to be done. Legs crossed, he pushed away with knife and bound hand the snow that had accumulated against him, and brushed ice from his face with the shirt. Then he cut the rag, and bundled its pieces about his feet and hands, for he hoped not to walk away from his ordeal crippled. He needed to be able to wield a sword.

"Power changes the world; restraint coexists. I cannot change this situation any more than I can shape a storm, so I must endure it."

For the first time in as far as his memory would take him, Rock Lee stopped fighting, stopped willing, stopped hating, and endured. As he gazed unwaveringly upon Iron through the all but impervious walls of icy mist, he did not know of General Mifune, at that moment alert in his own vigil and gazing up toward the mountain from far below; he did not know of Okazaki Ken'ichiro's continued period of diligent prayer and repeated prostration to the shrine of the mountain gods, or the pair of maidens who whispered as they spied on the young samurai from respectful distance; he did not know of Kawazora Shinwara's delight, hours ago when his followers had gone to tell him of the shinobi's fate; nor did he know of Sengo Koaki, upon being taunted by said lackeys in another hallway, proceeding with no further notice to take down trainee after trainee with sharp and masterful moves of the unforgiving wooden practice sword that never left her side, before numbers won out – the sword was torn free – she landed a good punch – and they beat her to a pulp. Far away, on a kinder mountain called Myoboku, a certain blonde Sage in training trudged off to sleep after a bit of extra taijutsu practice with a most interesting master. In a village once known as the Leaf, one of Lee's own former teammates lay awake some nights, harried by too many conflicting feelings toward a man who had embraced the darkness within. On yet another side of the world, in realms most would dare not tread, a young wolf han'you lay curled up against her familiar's warm belly, as he watched loyally over his summoner's fitful sleep.

But Lee knew of none of these things. Right now he felt only the mountain beneath him, and the wind and ice against his bare chest and back. Looking upon the endless expanse of land and sky he knew to lie beyond the darkness and the storm, he breathed the vital air that stung his nostrils and lungs, and he endured, not seeking but calmly awaiting the sunrise that he knew must come.

This particular daybreak delivered a considerable shock to the Land of Iron, for the gods had smiled upon an outsider, and Rock Lee, a shinobi among samurai, was a free man.

**-****青春の竜****-**

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**End** **Part Four**

Chikara - Power

-Hinata0321


	10. Young Dragon's Gaiden 5 (Final)

G3F\\\Gaiden of the Three Failures

YD5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _NARUTO_!

* * *

He remembered little of the night's end. There was dazed but pure relief, as the sky lightened and something resembling warmth touched his raw flesh; a voice had called out from an uncertain distance, and he had probably garbled his response. Whatever he may have said, the confirmation of life brought shouts of shock, joy, and dismay from what must have been a group of people coming up the path behind him. His name; awed swearing and exclamations; 'stop looking at the sun!' Hands touching, shaking a stiff shoulder. Lee had vomited in the snow.

Mifune, grasping his shoulder with gentle words of pride, and the stark face of a man who looked like a middle-aged version of the Kawazora he knew, were glimpsed as someone lifted Lee up. It had been Ken'ichiro who ultimately carried the ashen, confused and strengthless young man in a blanket in his arms, while Mifune kept him talking, promising he would be able to rest soon. Lee had no idea whether his answers were coherent. Every now and then, he noticed the face of the unknown man, always gawking right at him. He wondered if the guy was all right.

They had begun passing by more people, and Lee heard awed murmurs, saw many a bowed head, as light hands briefly brushed his still-numb flesh. He paid his confusion little mind, however, for a great concern had risen to the forefront of his thoughts. He had a sense of panicking, demanding to know if he would keep his hands. In his delirium, he found himself transferred to a hospital bed. Someone was cutting his right hand free of the dagger binding, and berating him for trying to move. He didn't know why he wanted to move. He was being told he could rest now.

He didn't, until the doctor told him he would keep all his fingers and toes.

* * *

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**Part Five: Ascension**

His eyes opened groggily on the same white ceiling. He was under blankets; he was, wonderfully, incredibly, warm. An oxygen mask was affixed over his nose and mouth, and a hand neared to brush across his forehead. He blinked.

"Rock Lee, of the ninja village Hidden in Leaves. Are you quite sure you're completely human? No gods a generation back or two?"

Lee chuckled, enjoying the warmth of Koaki's small palm on his forehead. "Positive," he said. "They do not come more ordinary than me." Looking her way, he gasped. Bandages wrapped around her forehead, and her right arm rested in a sling; she sported tape on the bridge of her nose, a gauze pad taped to one cheek, a number of visible bruises, and a nasty shiner to top it off. "What…?"

"Tripped," she provided simply, seeming oddly pleased with herself. Lee gave her a no-nonsense look, and she rubbed her neck. "In fact, I tripped in such a way that Shinwara's fellows won't be willing to cross me any time soon."

"You did not…?"

"An epidemic of tripping broke out that night," the chief healer said sourly as he entered from an adjacent room. "Thankfully, Sengo-san _trips_ remarkably well for as long as she can keep her weapon in her hands. Rock Lee-san, how do you feel?"

Lee's eyebrow twitched. _They do not pretend very well…_

A sound drew his attention to the door. Someone he did not recognize yelped as Lee met his eyes, and the visitor hurriedly continued on his way.

"A look at the one who survived the night," Koaki explained. "When you first got out of urgent care, there was a line all the way outside the infirmary of people just waiting to get a glimpse of you, as if to make sure you're real. The numbers seem to have dwindled gradually in the day since, so now you're only getting visitors every few minutes or so."

"And what about you, Koaki-san? Have you been making sure that I am real, as well?"

She snorted softly at his teasing. "I have no need to confirm things I already know, _shinobi_," she said with mock-seriousness, but spared him a wink with her black eye. She stood, with a bit of help from a wooden crutch. "I never doubted you, Lee. I'll go now, to inform Lord Mifune – he asked to be notified when you awakened."

The general returned alone, without Koaki. The master and pupil nodded to each other, one uncertain, the other abashed. Eventually, they attempted at the same time to break the silence: Mifune with words of apology, and Lee with words of thanks. They paused in surprise. Then Mifune let himself laugh heartily, and Lee gave off laughter of his own.

Master and pupil needed not always to understand each other, Lee decided. That the two could share a laugh together was plenty in itself.

* * *

"Shinobi."

"Kawazora-san? Good evening."

The courtyard was empty of any others, at this hour. Most were probably at the mess hall, but Lee had yet to be discharged from the infirmary. Some things, however, never changed; he preferred not to wait around for his recovery lying in bed. Though the doctor scolded him for trying anything strenuous, Lee could at least get away with short walks in the yard, and as such, he would appreciate them. It was in such a setting, as Lee in his patient's robes enjoyed the fresh air and practiced putting weight on his feet, that Kawazora Shinwara came in fine clothes to confront him. He called Lee a freak.

"How can you stand there, so nonchalant? You've got everyone thinking you're some sort of god…!"

Lee quirked an eyebrow. "I can do little to control what people think of me. You are a fine example."

"Filthy outsider…!"

"Kawazora-san… I have been acquitted of my crime against you, and absolved by the most arduous and stringent trial that this land of Iron has to offer. Your own father has publicly declared his and his clan's support of Lord Mifune's leadership. If you would still find me unworthy of pursuing the Warrior's Way, I do not know what you expect me to say here."

"Do you not resent me, demon?"

Lee shook his head honestly. He held up his mitten-wrapped hands; under the thick woolen covering, each hand's fingers were securely bound in cotton wrap and taped to each other, to prevent Lee agitating the damage to recovering tissues while feeling slowly returned to the digits. "A bit of frostbite will heal with time."

All of Shinwara's strength went into the fist he brought to Lee's gut. The blow's recipient was moved not an inch. At Lee's not unkindly questioning look, Shinwara yelled and struck just as ineffectually at his face. Lee barely flinched as the other trainee pelted him with blows.

"You're a demon! You must have cheated the ordeal with ninja magics, but no one else can see it! Who do you think you are, to come here, and stir up the clans, and turn the order of things on its head?!"

CRACK!

Lee tasted a tinge of iron, where knuckles had split inner cheek against teeth. Shinwara was panting.

"Why don't you fight back anymore, Shinobi? Say something! I command you!"

Lee straightened as the noble's shaking fist withdrew. He looked him in the eye, and spoke evenly. "In truth, I do not fit in with shinobi, either. You are wrong if you think that I deal in ruses and manipulation; all I am is all that you see, and nothing more." His expression softened. "If that is all, I will be on my way, Kawazora-san."

Lee bowed his head politely, and when he stepped forward, Shinwara held firm for but a second, and then stumbled untouched from his path. The robe-, mitten-, and slipper-clad shinobi passed the Kawazora son by. And he felt his intent, just before the bite of a wooden sword landed sharply at the back of his neck.

With a grunt, Lee fell to one knee. The quick whistle of wind, and another strike clacked against the back of his skull. Teeth clenched, Lee simply sat and endured the rain of blows upon his shoulders, head, and back, along with the scorching abuse flung from his assailant's lips. Shinwara was blind with rage; fighting him would not change anything. So Lee waited him out, until he had been beaten to the Kawazora's satisfaction.

Shinwara dropped the ruined practice sword in exhaustion, and Lee stood, straightened the robe that lay tattered over his bloodied back, and continued on his way without sparing the other boy another glance. After getting this cleaned up, he had something to ask of Mifune…

Shinwara stared after Lee until he vanished back into the infirmary. The young samurai was thusly alone when his knees buckled, and he fell to the dirt, struggling to understand why he felt as though _he_ was the one who had been defeated here.

And so, though Lee did not know it, it was not his power but his newfound restraint that ultimately planted the seeds of change in Kawazora Shinwara, future head of the Kawazora House, that evening in the courtyard. Even greater than Lee's immense outward strength was the quiet power that now resided comfortably within him, thoughtful, waiting to unfurl. It imparted a humbling effect on the Iron youth, an effect that left him no choice but to reexamine his manner of living.

* * *

_There is something that I can do for Lord Mifune. One more thing…_

Lee stood in samurai armor at the master's side as Mifune listed the terms of the combat. The head of Kawazora had held true, and stood now at Mifune's side in a gesture of support. The leaders of the seven remaining rebel clans, along with each clan's respective, single greatest warrior if not the clan head himself, were assembled before them, dressed in ornate armor of their clans' colors and style. The heads of twelve additional clans, with a small entourage apiece, had come to bear witness; Lee was quietly amused to see the often goofy Ken'ichiro done up and finely dressed beside his father, in Okazaki colors. Such variegated dress and traditional armor was used only in rare cases as these, when ceremony was called upon to resolve conflicts between the powers within Iron's own borders.

–"_You have invited them to settle this dispute, have you not? The other rebel clans…"_

"_I have. Without the Kawazora, who were the heart of the dissenters, some have abandoned their hostility. The rest, however, are beginning to squabble amongst themselves. Before things can get out of hand, I will end this in the name of Iron and of the unity that gives her strength."_

"_So, you will fight them to prove your right to lead…"–_

"You will fight one by one, in the order of your choosing, until one is victorious or you all are defeated. I trust that each of the seven clans to accept this challenge has already selected its champion?"

"Hai."

"Hai."

"Hai…"

–"_That is your__ offer?" Mifune chuckles._

"_I am serious. I want to show you that your faith in me was not wasted. I want to thank you…"_

"_You already have… They will be here in four days' time, Lee. What about your hands?"_

"_I will be fine. In four days I will be ready to fight."–_

Mifune's old eyes surveyed the seven warriors.

"Very well. I will now name my own champion. Rock Lee, of the Village Hidden in Leaves, step forward!"

"Hai! _Shishou!_" Lee said, removing the mask of his helmet.

"_Shinobi!_" The word was growled, like something repulsive. Lee stepped quickly in front of Iron's general as the man in dark blue, grey, and black, his armor trimmed in gold, grasped the hilt of his katana, but the man made no further move to suggest of attack. "So that boy is your pet shinobi? Do you mean to mock us, Mifune?!"

"I do not. The same terms will apply to my champion; one defeat is all your faction will need."

"You are the leader of Iron! You _are_ Iron! He is not fit to represent you. An outsider, beneath peasants! I refuse to fight such a joke!"

Lee's eyes narrowed the slightest degree. Mifune coughed politely.

"May I remind you, Lord Kurayamiki, that this lowliest outsider has been acknowledged by the gods? Or do you challenge their judgment as well? He is my pupil and vassal, whom I would trust with my own life. He may be born _shinobi_, but he fights as _samurai_. This boy is beneath no warrior – not me, and certainly not you."

Lee gasped, and Kurayamiki's face darkened.

"I'll kill him," the man growled, and turned to join the others as the first clan's warrior came forward.

Mifune drew a scarf from his robe. Lee gripped the hilt of his own katana as well as he could, and let Mifune tie his hand to it: Lee's hands' dexterity and grip had in fact not fully recovered in time. Lee's first challenger snorted in distaste.

"Handicapped, as well?"

Mifune tied off a knot. "You say I squander our military potential, yes, but you also criticize my permitting foreigners to learn. If the gods' favor will not suffice, shall I let you be the judge of this outsider's worth, Lord Oonaga?" He clapped his pupil on the shoulder. "Go – Lee."

"It will be my honor," Lee said, smiling as he strode to stand before his scowling foe.

The two bowed to each other. A small gong rang to herald the start. And Lee was standing behind Oonaga, the blade tied to his hand still sheathed as he turned to head back to the starting position, while the man slumped to the ground.

"M-m-m'lord?!"

"Stunned, nothing more," Lee assured the attendant who came running up to the samurai's prone body.

Mifune quirked an eyebrow. _A simple hilt to the solar plexus, huh? Oonaga will be out for a while… _He watched as the man was carried aside and fanned by his attendant, and Lee bowed to the next in line. _Careful, Lee… Your enemies will not underestimate you much longer._

The next foe initiated with an Iai strike, its start flawless in all but the fact that Lee's straw sandal was breaking the man's wrist before a third of the blade was drawn. The man's sword clattered to the ground, and Lee's whistling blade snapped to halt a hair's breadth from his foe's neck. With a stammered 'I submit' he was off to the sidelines for medical attention, and Lee was on to the next one.

The duels grew more heated; as Mifune had predicted, the clans had managed to agree on an arrangement such that their seven champions fought Mifune's one roughly in order of escalating prowess. They had intended to wear him down if needed, to better ensure the victory of the strongest among them. The plan was reasonable enough in theory, but perhaps even more futile against the strong son of shinobi than it would have been against the aged – but sharp – warrior-general. The youth braved each dance of blades without faltering, with acuity in every move, and bested each contender without fail. He felt the sword in his hand, and the dry grass beneath his feet; he felt his opponents' animosity. More than anything, he felt his master's faith in him, and Mifune's proud smile on his back, and he knew he would not lose.

Finally he faced Lord Kurayamiki. Mifune had warned Lee of the man's frightening strength and prodigious skill with the blade; possibly more formidable in combat than even Lord Kawazora, he was in truth the only warrior present who might have been a match for Mifune. Lee did not fear, however, as he bowed to his foe and the match began, and it was not for his usual reason to grow stronger by suppressing it.

Perhaps the man was distracted, or overconfident, for his intent was plain as day. The blade driven by a murderous heart could not touch the youth, to cut down the single obstacle in its wielder's path, no matter how furiously it tried. Light in heart and light of foot, Lee's strong body danced surely from strike after deadly strike. His blade was first partially unsheathed to cleanly catch and deflect a savage blow; Kurayamiki began to stagger back with the recoil of his own excessive force, and a sharp kick to the gut threw the man several meters. He fell to one knee, face drawn tight with pain. He swore.

"Y-you fool…" He wheezed, catching hold of his breath. "You weren't born here, raised among samurai! How can you even claim to understand what you're fighting for?!" With a roar, he rose tearing toward Lee, drawing his katana back to strike.

Lee, however, was too suddenly before him, the butt of his katana's hilt positioned to collide with that of Kurayamiki's early in the motion of the man's swing. The result was that the lord's katana was popped clear out of his hand, and with a curt move of the hilt Lee proceeded to crack one of his opponent's ribs. A second strike, to the jaw, sprawled him out on his back. The man began to reach desperately for his fallen blade, only to flinch as Lee stepped firmly on his shoulder, and held the blade of his katana steady at his throat.

"You said that the ruler of Iron _is_ Iron. Lord Kurayamiki… if that is so, I can imagine no better a person for Iron to be, than the person it already is." Lee's voice was cool as the man glared up at him. "Who else could I fight for? After all, it is because of the harmony Lord Mifune has encouraged … that three as different as Sengo Koaki, Okazaki Ken'ichiro, and Rock Lee of the Leaf were able to be friends."

"Friendship?" the man snarled. "Is that why you fight? If you are a warrior, spare me such drivel. I do not submit; finish what you have started, shinobi."

Lee frowned, his brow stern. He stepped from the man's shoulder, and returned his weapon to its sheath. "You have made your point known. You may not think much of me, but I will not kill a man for a difference of opinion."

"Coward," he spat. Lee simply bowed somberly, and turned to return to Mifune's side.

His back had been turned but a moment when Lee sensed movement behind him – saw Mifune's eyes widen – and turned, drawing his blade only to receive a slice from forearm to hand. He cried out, but the wrap had been torn along with his flesh; with his next movement, the sword's weight was pulling it from his feeble grip. It clattered to the ground, as Kurayamiki swung his sword in both hands with the clear intent to remove Lee's head.

_Fwoosh!_

Mifune had been dashing toward them, but was still five meters shy of striking Kurayamiki down when the lord's blade lashed around, clipping a few hairs from a sharply ducking Lee's head. The general stayed his advance and his blade, as Lee stepped into Kurayamiki, hefted the man clear from the earth with a palm beneath his breastbone, and briefly pulled back to hurl him away again. Kurayamiki went sailing into his vassal, who'd begun approaching him prior to the lord's furious retaliation. The younger man was in turn bowled off his feet, and the two crashed to the ground, tumbling once and then sliding for an additional few meters before coming to a halt.

Whispering rose from those presently assembled clans, at this spectacular show of strength. It would not soon be forgotten – the day that the fearsome lord of the Kurayamiki was thrown with one arm by a youth, god-child or not, more than a head shorter.

Lee grunted as Mifune tore off Lee's already-ruined sleeve, wadding it to press to his bleeding arm. Wincing, he nonetheless stared down the pale-faced lord and spoke dangerously. "I spared you because dead leaders plague their survivors with resentment and turmoil. Make no mistake; I will not kill over a difference in opinion, but if you intend to make your life a threat to the peace here, I will slay you without a second thought."

Mifune nodded, scornful. "You call yourself nobility? I should send _you_ to face the mountain's judgment, and let us see how well you fare!"

The man shuddered visibly. Shamefaced, he shifted to his knees and bowed deeply. "P-please forgive my impudence…"

Mifune gave a sound of acknowledgment. The Kurayamiki's vassal helped his lord to his feet, and the two retreated to join the other defeated representatives.

The general sighed, and turned to Lee. "Well done, lad."

"Thank you…"

"All that is left is the ceremonial closing – will you be all right to take part? You do not need to."

"I can manage that much more."

"Are you sure?"

"Hai. I can."

So Lee went aside to have his wound bandaged, while Mifune addressed those assembled to formally declare the result of the combat, and begin the closing remarks. Lee returned to his side, katana re-bound to his hand, to await his first defeat of the day.

At last, Lee and Mifune faced each other, bowed, and assumed identical stances. Lee knew he would not best him today, while he was indeed still recovering from his ordeal, and he accepted it. All the same he would do his best, as the tradition demanded. He relaxed, shutting his eyes to slip into harmony with the world around him, and waited.

The gong sounded.

Two katana met with a resonant clang and a white flash of sparks; the ground buckled into a radial web of cracks centered directly beneath them, and a shock of wind tossed back Lee's and Mifune's hair as it sent swift billows of dirt tumbling into the lines of spectators.

Lee's jaw dropped. Mifune gave only a pointed look, and a stern smile of pride. The man would never have held back.

Lee had matched him.

A _shinobi_ had matched Mifune's Quickdraw.

"I don't believe that any more will be necessary here today," Mifune announced. Lee returned the great warrior's smile. The two sheathed their blades, rising to full height, and bowed to each other.

"Thank you, my champion."

"The honor is mine, my teacher."

The young shinobi's exploits in the Land of Iron did not quite end there. Within two days, when Kurayamiki and all the rest had returned to their homes across the land, an anonymous message alerted the general to the presence of a hired assassin planted among the base's personnel. Lee was entrusted the task of confronting the suspect, and pushed just hard enough in the ensuing clash to force the spy to unleash a ninjutsu. This ascertained, the young man quickly overpowered and apprehended him; Mifune's men put the spy behind bars. With this incident, the conflict and the stirring coup were resolved at last.

Rock Lee's time among the samurai was brief, but would remain forever precious to him – and to those he'd touched. He could stay no longer than he did, however, for the forces of the Leaf would be needing his power soon enough. Mifune understood this, and was able to see him off with confidence despite that Lee had not once managed to best him. The fact remained that, being stronger and swifter to begin with, if Lee were to attain Mifune's level of mastery he would surpass him easily in battle. Even so, the young man left Iron many times a finer warrior than he had been upon his arrival.

"Could you answer it now, I wonder? Do you finally understand which katana is finer?"

The question was asked only of the rising sun, for the remarkable youth had only moments ago vanished in the distance. Though Ken'ichiro had not caught his muttering, at Mifune's side, Sengo Koaki gave an inquisitive look. He shook his head, waving off her curiosity.

_I can have faith now that you would make the right choice. So, when a time comes that you must choose … you will not become the blood-soaked warrior who can only destroy all that lies in his path._

_Indeed, if… no, _when_ you make the right choice, who can tell how great you might become?_

Such was the story of another day. As it was, the tale of a lost outsider ravaged by bloodshed – a tale of a young dragon of a fighter finding his way, of a soul rising from its lowest point to its highest thus far, and of an uncanny shinobi now welcome among samurai – would find its place in the history of Iron's continuing era of peace.

**-****青春の竜****-**

**Young Dragon's Gaiden**

**End**

* * *

A/N: Well, there's one complete Gaiden! Hope you enjoyed!

So, why not post this in the main story? Mainly, it would break the flow. Combining all four parts, this is about the size of a short-to-average J3F chapter, but since there's not much to say about Hinata's and Naruto's training or the goings-on in New Oto/Konoha during the 24-25 timeskip, I think a full chapter following only one main character would be a bit out of place, no?

If anyone has any preference on whose to continue next, let me know. I'm not likely to post any more sidestories until after I can finish Toward the New Age, Act II, though.


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